


Our Home Away from Home, Away from Home

by TheRedRoster



Category: RWBY
Genre: Beacon (RWBY) Didn't Fall, Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:49:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27145486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRedRoster/pseuds/TheRedRoster
Summary: It's the second year of Beacon and Yang comes to the city a month ahead to get some things off her mind in solitude. Instead she finds Jaune at a bar and they talk through the night. She wakes up as his roommate and decides that they should get to know each other. They've got secrets to keep. She needs a distraction, and he needs anything but the watered down flask in his pocket.
Relationships: Jaune Arc/Yang Xiao Long
Comments: 3
Kudos: 39





	1. Proximity

**Author's Note:**

> With a major Dragonslayer release coming, I thought I'd release something unedited and in a style I don't normally do.
> 
> Inspired by TheRedPoet's Adequate and College Fool's Telling/Summary writing style.

It's almost the second year at Beacon. Yang arrives early to scope out the city and hopefully find a little getaway apartment she can use when she's tired of the dorm. She doesn't get much luck that day and decides to cap off the night with a bit of dancing just so it feels like it wasn't a complete waste of time.

She finds Jaune sitting alone in a booth. Last year, he and Qrow got real close and now he's got the tiniest drinking problem. Jaune tells her that there's a numbness that he revels in.

Turns out, he's a quiet drunk.

She doesn't dance. She sits with him and talks. She mostly hears the sound of her own voice but every nod, hum, and laugh off him validates her fears, makes her feel heard. Somehow she enjoys this side of him. He's listening, attentive, eyes never drifting away from her. She decides, then, that maybe they should hang out more.

He already has an apartment in the city. It's where he's been living over the Summer. He reconciled with his parents after running away and now he's got a place of his own for it.

She takes his guest room and promises to help with the plumbing and electrical work. She's good with her hands. The innuendo either misses him entirely or he ignores it.

One day she pulls out from under the kitchen sink looking grimy and covered in stray meats the sink grinder failed to shred. Jaune hands her a towel and a drink while wearing an apron. How she ends up looking like the man of the house and he the wife doesn't escape her. She cracks the joke and he blushes. She realizes what she's just said and blushes too.

They laugh it off.

When it's late they watch a movie in the living room. He's the one that snuggles in. "You're warm," he admits plainly, as if it was supposed to be obvious and that _she's_ the one being weird about not knowing that.

She plays with his hair while he's pressed to her side and she wonders – for just a moment – if his ex, Pyrrha, did this too. She buries wherever that train of thought was leading.

After she's done messing with his hair, she twists her arm the wrong way and it hurts just a bit. He hears her quiet hissing and takes her hand quickly. His semblance stops the bolt of pain but she doesn't tell him to stop even when all she feels is warmth and that signature tingle he gives off that makes her feel powerful. She hums appreciatively and tells him how obviously nice it feels and that _he's_ being weird for not knowing it.

There's a moment when they're done laughing at themselves – right when they've calmed down and the movie is making it only the tiniest bit less quiet – that everything just feels _pleasant_. It's warm when it should be chilly. Familiar when it should feel new.

They sleep on the couch.

She wakes up to coffee and the smell of tuna and eggs.

**-0-**

It's the weekend and she finds herself cozying up to her new lifestyle so much that dorm life is starting to sound like a coming nightmare by comparison. Her guest room is larger than her entire dorm. It has a private shower she can take whenever she wants and without contest. And though bunk beds _were_ fun for their freshman year, she realizes rather quickly that a queen-size suits her better.

She asks Jaune if she can stay. He looks at her wide-eyed – not by surprise but by something he suddenly remembers – and he leaves the room without answering. For a moment, she's scared. He comes back with a letter. It's the rent. The month is almost up and he was supposed to tell her days back how much she is supposed to pay.

"Don't look so surprised," he says with a bit of cheek. "It's already settled, isn't it?"

She slugs him in the arm before hugging him.

That night they celebrate at the same club they met at. This time they're dancing and Yang finds that Jaune has more confidence on the dance floor than he does just about anywhere else. At some point he takes her hand and dips her so low that her hair touches the ground. She's having so much fun that she doesn't even notice.

Jaune's still a lightweight and Yang only pretends to drink – frequent bathroom visits tend to mask your tolerance – so he's barely functional when she drags him into his bedroom. He isn't drunk, just teetering off the edge to it in the worst way. After an hour of sitting with him as he groans and burps, Yang leaves to take a shower.

She comes back to find him freshly bathed and in bed. His wet hair moistens his pillow. She towel-dries his head – his complaints resembling Ruby's when she used to do it to her. She tells him about it.

He tells her that it sounds like she grew up like a mom, and that it's no wonder she's grasping at her own youth like it'll fall away come the morning. Driving just shy of the speed limit, dancing in clubs till curfews are an afterthought, nursing drinks like her liver is iron.

She gets an idea and asks him about his sisters. He mouths out stories that seem endless. There's a catalog of happy memories she almost envies.

Suddenly, in the middle of one story, he admits that he's glad he isn't alone. (Seven sisters and two excitable parents makes a life with any less seem unbearable).

She admits that it was silly of her to think that she would have preferred to be alone. (Experiencing her youth is so much nicer when you have someone to share it with. She was never much of a lone wolf anyhow).

She's glad she found him sulking in that booth.

He tells her why he was there in the first place.

She stays with him for so long that she forgets to leave and falls asleep beside him.

**-0-**

A week passes and some of their friends are in the city too. The school is open and some of them are already packing into their dorms in advance. Jaune and Yang don't quite join them yet. They're preparing the apartment for a party.

Sun and Pyrrha are dating. It almost comes out of nowhere for everyone but not Jaune. He's the one who pushed Sun to try, which surprises Yang. That is the woman he used to love and the idea that he's already over his first girlfriend seems unlike him.

She realizes then, at the party amidst the cheers of a beer pong match, that she knows precious little about Jaune's nuances. If this happened to Blake or Ruby, she'd know if they were silently suffering inside or not. She knows their cues – a twitch in the eye, a smile that's too wide, a change in their pitch – their restless little gestures that tell her a dozen things that need not be said.

She doesn't know Jaune well enough to tell the difference. Infuriatingly, he seems the same as he's always been. He smiles at her and offers her a drink, and not once do his eyes linger over Sun and Pyrrha laughing by the window.

She clings to his side to offer comfort she doesn't know he even needs.

Nora plops into the seat across from them and stares. Her mouth opens and everyone watching already knows what she's about to ask before she asks it.

"You two dating?"

Yang's heart stops for a moment. She'd grown so comfortable that she'd forgotten propriety around him. That her living with him and snuggling up to his side in public sends signals that are more than a little friendly.

But Jaune laughs and says that Yang's just tired. He maintains that there's nothing between them.

When all eyes fall on her, she's staring up at him with a redness to her cheeks and a quiet _want_ in her eyes. Jaune sputters in embarrassment at what he sees. Then Yang, too, laughs and everyone isn't surprised that she's teasing him.

Ruby later pulls her aside and tells her not to play with his heart.

She tells her she wasn't.

He's as reliable as the guy who cooks her meals – as in frequently and without fail – and she likes to think she's been much the same. But she's just starting to enjoy being friends with him and she isn't sure she's ready yet for that to change. Can't she just like how they are and worry about where it all leads until it happens? (If it even does).

When Ruby hugs her and walks off, Yang sits in her room alone.

She thinks about what she thinks love is. A knot in her stomach, a tingle dancing over her nerves, a magnetic need to be around him. She doesn't have any of that... Right?

When their friends leave for the night, she decides that talking to him about it right _now_ is better than letting it all simmer inside of her till it drives her mad.

He tells her that it was a good thing that she did. She might have tricked herself into thinking she _was_ in love with him.

"What?"

He tells her that comfort like that is easy. It doesn't take much – apparently – to be someone most people like. Despite his flaws, Jaune knows how to _not_ be a nuisance ( _thank you, Weiss,_ he mutters under his breath and Yang laughs in a way that tells him she's not so anxious anymore). He knows how to be reliable; cooking and cleaning are universal goods. He knows he doesn't always have any advice, so he sits quietly and listens instead – which is what most people are looking for anyway. And sex, once you listen to a partner enough, can feel good regardless of how attractive you find each other.

Jaune knows how to be a person you like having around and finding a romantic partner in that is so easy that it's almost cheating.

She doesn't secretly have feelings for him and if _he_ fell for _her_ at any time in the year-and-a-half they've known each other, he's fairly certain she would have noticed by now.

And even if they tried, it might end in disaster.

He tells her that he hasn't seen every part of her (she physically resists the opportunity to tease him). That he can't catch her little quirks. That he doesn't know how to handle her at her worst cause he hasn't even seen her like that yet. That he doesn't know if there are little somethings she'd wish he did for her, or if there were things she wished he didn't. That if she were brave enough to tell him things he needed to hear about himself, or comfortable enough to hear him tell her in turn.

It's then that Yang realizes why Jaune and Pyrrha broke up.

She almost asks but he knows what the wideness in her eyes means. He isn't bitter about it. He learned a lot, clearly, and it's a little sad – yes, _just_ a little – that they started too soon and before they were ready. But they're okay and they're back to being how they used to be. He still has Pyrrha, just not in that way anymore. Nothing was ever truly lost in his eyes.

Just as nothing was lost between herself and him by talking about her having feelings for him.

So they should forget the feelings that never were and go watch something till they're tired enough to call it a night. _Ylda Braveheart_ is coming on in an hour and he's already got a popcorn stockpile ready.

She grabs his wrist before he can leave.

The night was about to end so anticlimactically that she decides to kiss him. She realizes half a second too late that she probably shouldn't have done that and that she wasn't sure she could blame it on the alcohol, but he's kissing back and pulling her in by the waist. He's sucking at her tongue like he's proving a point. And after she moans just _once_ , he pulls away.

Her breath is haggard and he looks cuter than he did a minute ago. Her lips ache, an almost magnetic need to pull him back in jolts her fingers into clutching at his shirt. Her heart pulses, pushing breaths into her stomach that's still flush against his own. And… _shit,_ she realizes that she's just ticked all her own boxes.

"See what I mean by how easy it is to trick yourself?"

The serious look he's giving her – _concerned_ , not _stern_ – makes her feel a little guilty. She almost doesn't notice that he's already at the kitchenette at one corner of their living room.

He gives her space but she decides rather quickly that she isn't the kind of girl that gets hung up on that.

She helps him with the bowls and as the microwave pops the kernels, they spend the few minutes making 'pop' noises to try to sync with the popcorn. Cheering when they sync, laughing at each other when they don't. They forget what just happened and sit down to watch Ylda Braveheart slay a dragon and wrestle her bodyguard.

It's almost so terribly awkward when they get up at the same time and don't know if hugging is appropriate or even necessary. They try anyway and decide that they shouldn't say _good night_ that way again.

Yang falls asleep a little more at peace with herself.

**-0-**

Jaune comes out of his room because they forgot to put the bowls away. When he's done cleaning he's staring at her door and his fingers twitch.

He knows it isn't love, but the tingle in his lips is still there and he hadn't felt warmth like that in a while. He'd be lying if he didn't say that it felt nice. She was undeniably a good kisser.

His hand falls on his cheek. There's a burning warmth there too in the shape of someone's lips and he wishes so deeply that it would go away.

He pulls out the flask in his pocket and takes a swig. It's watered down so he can gulp without his cheeks burning or losing his footing.

His eyes don't drift to Yang's door. He wants them to. Wants to consider her an alternative to the drink. But he can't do that to a friend. Not to anyone.

So a measured buzz and a deep sleep it is. He doesn't have any good advice, least of all for himself.


	2. Adhesion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize that this fic borrows some ideas from the upcoming one. This one does maintain better focus on those ideas but, regardless, I hope it isn't jarring to see them reflected.

**PART 2 – Adhesion**

It's the second year at Beacon and the rest of the juniors are out by the cliffs watching freshmen start their initiation by being hurled into the woods at a speed that would break normal people's necks.

Weiss wants to scope out the competition to see if they'll have any favorable opponents for the Vytal festival. They're competing this year again too and she aims to win.

Yang arrives a little later than the rest since she spent much of the night before unpacking.

On instinct she moves to sit next to Jaune but then he laughs at something Pyrrha says and she almost doesn't. _Almost._ She plops down anyway and asks what's up. Turns out, another student was launched screaming through the sky just like Jaune was.

He decides then to make an announcement. Then promptly shuts his mouth. He wants to keep it a surprise. Ruby bugs him to say it anyway but he holds his tongue.

Yang can tell Pyrrha already knows and its clear Ren has an inkling. (Nora's poker face is so legendary that nothing can be read). It's another thing Yang doesn't know about Jaune.

**-0-**

Ruby has taken to decorating their room. She strings lights across the ceiling, sets table cloths on their nightstands, lays a carpet in the middle of the room, and smatters the walls with pictures of them and their adventures. It feels a little more like home and Weiss doesn't fuss about how scattered it all looks.

Yang can't help but fixate on one photo tucked into the corner of the room.

The two teams are huddled together, but on the far side is Jaune and Pyrrha. Cheeks pressed together and their hands – unseen in the photo – are clutched together behind them. They were in love then, she tells herself, even if the word _love_ is so ambiguous at this point that it makes her irritable.

Maybe one day she'll convince herself he's okay and that he has nothing to hide. At least from her.

"Going for a walk," she announces to the busyness of the room.

The clatter of Blake's book follows after her as she plunges into the noise of the hallway.

Blake walks with her without a word because the halls are filled with so many voices behind the hundred closed doors and any one of them could be listening in. It still, somehow, feels uncomfortably quiet.

They sit at the garden just out by the dorm and Blake asks her what's on her mind.

Yang says that it's not worth mentioning. A petty, tiny thing that she'll get over in a day and that it's silly she's even worrying about it.

Blake tells her that it can be silly if she's worrying about it. Just because the world has bigger problems doesn't mean she should feel ashamed for feeling what she feels. Some things – she says slowly, empathically – are beyond our control. Even in ourselves.

Blake's smile isn't real. Yang catches the self-defeat hiding in the too wide look in her eyes.

Not wanting to let Blake wallow in her own torments amidst the silence, Yang confesses that she's gotten to really know Jaune for the better part of a month. She says she's his friend but believes that she barely qualifies. She doesn't really know the real Jaune Arc.

"What's the first thing he does in the morning?" Blake asks.

"Uh… cook breakfast, water the cactus, play death metal at my door so I wake up to set the table."

"He has a cactus?"

"Don't ask me to explain. It's a long story."

Blake explains that despite her little courtship triangle with Sun and Ilia over the summer, she couldn't answer the question herself. If anything, they know more about each other than she does them. When it was happening, she tried to memorize everything on the surface. Music tastes, favorite food, books they've read (they didn't have many. They're movie buffs), but one time the two of them were arguing and Ilia let slip that Sun was a virgin, and Sun returned fire by reminding her that so was she.

Blake didn't know any of that, but they told each other in confidence somehow.

It was no surprise that they called things off a month before school started. She even overheard Sun setting Ilia up with a close friend of his, and Ilia's been behind him and Pyrrha ever since.

Yang tells her that it doesn't mean she didn't get to know them or get closer.

Blake smiles, brightly with a ghost of a chuckle rumbling from her lips. "Yeah, that's what I mean." Blake may not have gotten to know them as well as they did with each other, but who can say who is closer to who. Does that kind of comparison even matter?

The bottom line is that they care about each other. It'll take some time to get to know them but love isn't a quantity set with knowing what someone says or does. Those are things that make it _easier,_ but love of any kind has only one requirement: a willingness to give something selflessly.

Yang is surprised by that and admits, rather somberly, that she hasn't done that yet.

"What are you talking about? You did."

Blake explains that – for the most part – people give things to those they care about without really knowing it. You listen to them talk so you lend them your ear, you eat where they want to eat so you give them your time, you say something nice, you crack a joke, and sometimes, just sometimes, you sit there and be whatever they need. The sacrifice is often tiny, but you're still giving for their benefit.

And sometimes these connections go at a different pace, she says. Like her with Sun and Ilia, them to each other, Yang with herself, and Yang with Jaune. That doesn't mean they're any more or less valuable.

So maybe it isn't so bad that she's still getting to know him, but that doesn't mean they aren't friends.

**-0-**

At lunch, everyone seats themselves around a blonde in a hoodie, snoozing with the hood pulled up. Minutes later, Jaune shows up and they all stare wide-eyed at the mysterious blonde they converged around. Jaune's surprise, apparently, is that his twin sister, Joan, is attending Beacon with her team.

Yang realizes that Jaune hasn't been wearing his hoodie.

Joan calls it the " _elder hoodie_ ," because no one knows who was born first so they trade the hoodie depending on who the eldest is supposed to be at the time. Since he _stole it_ for a year, she's keeping it till they finish being sophomores. Everyone's just going to have to get used to him without it for a while.

Nora says he should stop putting it on altogether cause his muscles are showing. Joan takes a quick look at her chest – undefined in the oversized cloth – and quickly takes it off and tries to give it back to him. They fight over it until Yang snatches it for herself.

The twins are momentarily embarrassed until she says, "Okay! _I'm_ the eldest now."

Joan decides that Yang makes a great big sister. No one tells her that Yang's three months younger.

**-0-**

It's Friday after class and Yang shouldn't be surprised that Joan muscles into the apartment. She doesn't take the couch either. Joan and Jaune shared a bed so often that she decided that bunking with him was evidently the logical conclusion.

Joan cooks soup for dinner. It has banana slices in it. It reminds them of home.

Yang wakes up on Saturday morning to find Jaune sat on the couch in a towel; shampoo still in his hair. Joan woke up grumpy (he doesn't mention the teary-eyed look) and kicked him out of the bedroom so she could shower and change without him seeing. Yang doesn't like this, but Jaune tells her not to get mad at her.

He explains that, even though he reconciled with his _parents,_ it didn't go so smoothly with his sisters. Joan especially. Had she known he was running away to Beacon, she'd have followed after him. He didn't want to risk her future for the same shot in the dark as his.

Still, she's upset cause she spent a year worrying about him and being petty for one morning is hardly the worst she could do.

"And what if she does this again?" she asks, arms crossed.

"She won't," he says swiftly, an affection to his eyes that tells her that he knows his twin sister as well as he does himself.

Joan is probably hating herself for kicking him out in the first place, and will come out apologizing for it. Cause she's eighteen and things should have been okay now. No sense in dragging things along.

Yang offers her bathroom for him to finish. She resists innuendo. He catches it anyway. They laugh.

"I'll get some soap from my closet real quick."

"Dude, use mine. I don't care."

As predicted, Joan comes out into the living room looking sheepish. She asks where Jaune is. Yang instead offers to talk.

With a hesitant step, she sits down with her.

Joan tells her about how things went down at home. She spent a lot of time defending Jaune, saying he'd come back soon. It was only a week before even _she_ seriously doubted he'd come back safe. They feared the worst until Jaune called Saphron at the height of his guilt to explain that he's fine and that he got accepted into Beacon. A week later, he calls again and tells them about his team.

When they heard they were both _nice_ and _competent,_ they left him alone until he was ready to come back.

They knew they had to trust him and their dad, Apolian, admitted that he should have tried to prepare him instead of pushing him to pursue medicine like a civilian.

Good things did come out of it though. Joan got training like she wanted and she got registered with a local team. It was too late to enroll for freshman year but their accolades qualified them as sophomores. She didn't want to stay in the field though. She wanted the academy experience.

It's thirty minutes later after an anecdote about one of her teammates, that they realize that Jaune's already starting breakfast. (He still had some of his spare clothes in Yang's closet. It _did_ use to be his).

He's happy they're getting along.

Joan is sorry she was being petty.

He's sorry he ran away without telling her.

Apologies go back and forth until it ends abruptly. Yang almost envies the speed in which they hash things out.

They spend the day together.

Joan took the same guitar lessons as Jaune. They're both terrible at singing. So is Yang. The neighbors hate it. Then they make plans to buy amps.

The afternoon is a blur of stalls and dust shops. Sugar and music. Noises and laughter. Joan is still fresh into the city life and Yang feels like she could take her under her wing. She even has an interest in getting a bike.

Yang shows Joan the Club. Junior is amicable with there now being _two_ Arcs who will keep her on the dance floor instead of the bar.

There's a moment where Yang and Joan are talking between themselves. In that time, Jaune thinks to himself for a minute too long and he reaches for his flask to ease the torments swirling in his mind. Yang takes his hand. She noticed. With a smile small enough to be honest and pleading, she leads him out of the booth and into the dance floor.

Joan watches the way they look at each other.

"Huh."

She snaps a picture.

**-0-**

So much happened the day before that Yang almost gets whiplash when it's just her and Jaune again. It's blistering hot outside so they decide to make milkshakes.

Yang goes on a tirade about why Jaune should just buy a bike instead of saving up for a car. Jaune insists on getting a Highway Aries his sister Sable vowed was safe and sturdy. They're so distracted by the conversation that someone forgets to lid the blender.

The mishap is explosive, and they're both covered in stray milk and sugar. They take a picture and laugh it off. It's another memory – they decide – that would be timeless.

After getting changed, they get the idea to get a "before and after" shot. Since they couldn't take a before shot, they take one now and pretend that it is since the kitchen's all cleaned.

They try with the milkshakes again, remembering to have the lid closed, and after smothering each in whipped cream, they're sat at the TV, streaming an old film they saw as kids.

Their scrolls buzz.

Everyone saw the photos.

Ren asks why their clothes are different in both shots.

Nora sends a winky face.

Joan rants about how she leaves them for _one day_ and they're already messing around.

Weiss rants about their lack of propriety.

Jaune is static as he stares at the continued outburst from the rest of their friends just because Ren had to question the logic and Nora had to take it _that_ way. Before he types down an explanation, Yang stops him. She takes another photo, milkshakes in hand, and captions it.

"Come join us next time. Let's make it a _party_." Everyone who isn't Weiss knows the party is genuine. Weiss struggles to even say " _orgy_ " and, somehow, "preposterous."

Jaune takes pity on her and asks Neptune to explain that it's a joke. Somehow realizing she misread the whole thing makes Weiss feel even more embarrassed.

Yang is very satisfied with the outcome.

Sat quietly together, their movie drones on and they forget that milkshakes aren't exactly coffee. Their drowsiness straps weights to their eyelids. Haphazard jokes that mean nothing and make no sense are the only attempt at staying awake.

Joan slips into the living room cause she forgot something. She finds Jaune cleaning glasses while Yang slumbers on the couch.

"No luck?" she asks.

"Didn't even try," he answers.

"Maybe you should."

"Maybe I'll screw up again."

"Maybe you won't."

"Maybe it's safer –" he pushes a tiny strongbox into her hands, "–that I don't."

Despite herself, Joan doesn't pry. She hugs him instead and makes for the door. Before she leaves, she peeks through the crack in the door and sees Jaune staring at Yang. Temptation twitches at his fingers. He goes for his flask.

Joan gets an idea.

**-0-**

Joan skips class Monday morning. She sneaks into the apartment and waters down Jaune's whiskey.

She doesn't know if it's wise. It might even end poorly, but it might turn out precisely how it should. Jaune already hardly notices the taste, and this won't feel much different.

A week passes and nothing happens. That is until Joan is sitting with Ruby on Sunday. The weekend before, they went to the dock to indulge in the carnival.

Joan is, at first, not surprised to hear that Jaune and Yang disappeared somewhere towards the end.

Then, it turns out, Yang came back to the dorm really late with a bruised lip. She was also missing her jacket.

Jaune walks into the cafeteria with band aid on his neck. They already know he's hiding a hickey.

Ruby makes a demand: as his best friend, she wants to know what he did with her sister. Her and Joan look up at him expectantly.

"Fine," he groans, "but this stays between us."


	3. Inhibitions

The Kirin Festival is older than Vale itself. No one knows why they wear fish-scale costumes or set fire to carefully carved wooden statues as they drift into the sea. Why they sing songs of a dead tongue, or why they make the drunk climb a soaked pyramid for honor and – with a touch of modernity – some prizes.

Its mysterious allure is what draws most people. It's the reason why Jaune decides to climb the pyramid himself. He fails miserably. Yang has to carry him off.

Jaune didn't get the memo that participants have to have spare clothes because of course they do, so he's sat drenched in the changing room by the beach, Yang outside with his drying clothes by a heater lamp set up for just this kind of occasion.

They're alone again and it's quiet outside of the distant hum of the festival.

"I called Dad this morning," she says suddenly, leaned beside the tent. "I could hear her in the background." And she goes on, laying out her fears, but during a long pause to process her thoughts a little more, she briefly worries if he's listening.

"Yang. I'm here. I'm listening," he says, clear in that way like a droplet in a cave. Echoing in her mind. Present in all the ways that do not judge.

Then she talks. Talks about her mother coming home. Dancing around her while she reconnects with her dad. Or maybe she's just sleeping with him, and her family isn't going to be whole again. At least, these are her more negative thoughts. She's only willing to forgive her mother from running away if her dad gives her a chance.

She might have earned it then. _Might,_ she emphasizes for Jaune. Raven might well and truly never fit back into her life. Summer – bless her soul – reshaped the gap she left behind. So Yang doesn't know if Tai forgiving Raven might even be enough, but she's willing to hope.

**-0-**

Everyone gets into a few rides and eats their weight in sugar until they all end up at Junior's club again. Most of them are dancing, except for Ruby and Ren.

When Jaune and Yang dance a little too close to each other, they take a step away. When Sun and Pyrrha dance a little too close beside them, Yang decides to save them both the embarrassment by taking a break.

She doesn't see Jaune taking a swig of his flask. And he doesn't notice that the blush of his cheeks wasn't from the alcohol.

Yang comes back to the table just as Ren – under the influence of alcohol – confesses that Joan has been trying to court him.

Ren and Nora's relationship isn't official. It's tumultuous since she came back to Kuroyuri alone over the Summer to mourn her long lost brother. Ren couldn't bear to go with her. When she came back, they've been… uncertain. Awkward, even.

Joan adds to his confusion because she doesn't criticize his choices or cowardice, she just listens. (It's so eerily familiar that Yang shuts her eyes tight just to give herself time to swallow it). So Joan, in a stroke of luck, is there for him precisely when he needs someone who _isn't_ Nora.

Yang doesn't believe he'll choose her over Nora. It's just a rough patch. As long as neither of them do anything stupid in the meantime, she tells them, then it'll turn up alright once they get their rhythm again.

Ren says nothing.

Ruby's concern in that lack of confidence is burning.

Ren, placating her, says that he's certain things will work out between them again but knows he can't trust his own emotions just yet. Nora mentioned the nuckleavee limping around in the woods (JNPR went there towards the end of freshmen year to kill it but only managed to cripple it as it retreated). He was so blindingly furious at the idea that the beast was still alive that his nails started crackling against his aura.

Calm as he was, Ren wasn't completely put together just yet. "Maybe we're too young to be in love anyway," he says.

"I don't think it's love's fault that it happens too early or too late," Yang says, eyes away. "I think it's our fault for acting when we shouldn't or not acting at all. Or Going too far or…" – she glances at the dance floor – "…not far enough."

Ren is smug when she looks back at them. Nothing is left of Ruby but a cascade of rose petals. Then she zips back to her with the same smug look and a neck of her strawberry sunshine. Little umbrella and all.

Yang admits that she _was_ looking at Jaune, but not for the reasons they think.

Jaune wishes he did more with Pyrrha. Even if he's not hurting over it anymore, he's afraid of making any more mistakes like that.

"He _was_ actually," Ren says. He explains that Jaune spent the Summer alone and he spent some time calling him at the bottom of a whiskey bottle. He confessed about his feelings going haywire and how he wishes he could be happy for the new couple but dangerous parts of his mind told him that he shouldn't have been so passive. Strangely, he was being cryptic and even mentioned a marriage, but that he mumbled that last bit and Ren just shrugged it off.

"That wasn't about Pyrrha, though," Yang says.

"…What?"

"Oh. Oh, shit. I shouldn't have said that." Despite hinting at Jaune's big secret, Yang _is_ a little happy that there was something he was only willing to tell _her_ and not anyone else.

Then the rest of them come back to the booth and Yang pulls Jaune aside before Ren and Ruby can say anything.

She asks him about Joan going after Ren.

He tells her that he knows, but that all his efforts to curb her have failed. She's adamant about pursuing him.

Yang decides to try it herself.

**-0-**

Everyone's on their way back to the festival when Yang realizes that it's going to be too loud to call. She tells them she'll catch up and sits by a bench in the park. The musty smell of the pond battles against the fresh scent of her still lingering strawberry sunrise.

Joan picks up rather quickly, the sound of her team's movie vanishing in the background. She mouths out apologies to them first before she shuts a window behind her (her dorm is on the ground floor and she slips out through the window as frequently as the door) then sound of crickets chirps through the speaker.

Yang cuts to the chase and mentions Ren.

Joan asks her if she was talking to Jaune. Joan sighs, but she's not dejected, just… amused.

"Jaune likes to forget that we're the same age. That I had a boyfriend before, too. He likes to protect me cause I'm his sister. But I'm as wise as he is… and just as naïve."

Joan lists off Jaune's advice to her.

_It's just a phase._

_It wouldn't work out._

_You're aren't thinking this through._

_He's already practically married._

Joan rejects them all.

"I can't help what I feel. I can't dance around love like I'm waiting for an opportunity to strike. We aren't struck by falling stars when the perfect partner comes along. We just find the best we can and make it work out. Maybe Ren isn't for me. Maybe what I have is fleeting and foolish and naïve and stupid. I don't care. I am _done_ waiting for the world to give me the good news. This time around, I'm taking initiative."

They end the call soon after. Yang can't argue with her earnest pursuit if she isn't muscling into it and pushing Nora out of the picture. There was also that chip in her tone that sounded like she knew she was fighting a losing battle.

When Yang exits the park, she finds Jaune waiting by the gate. He stayed back for her.

Fireworks flash over the sky, color splashing over a dark canvas.

Yang only looks at Jaune. Maybe it's Joan being proactive that might have pushed her to stand a little closer. Her fingers twitch. She doesn't know what she wants, but thinks that maybe a little indulgence isn't so bad.

Then he looks at her. But not at her eyes. They're locked at her lips. Without thinking, he pulls out his flask. He takes a swig and tries to go ahead but she grabs him by the wrist.

Perhaps remembering what she did last time she grabbed his arm as he walked away, he covers his mouth with his arm.

She laughs at him. "I'm tired. The party's over. Let's just drop them a line and go home."

"Home…" he whispers before nodding.

**-0-**

They're sat at the couch because they're waiting on their scrolls. Ruby went missing but they were tasked with staying behind just in case Ruby stumbles into their apartment. Yang isn't too worried. Ruby probably saw Penny and was dragged off during the fireworks.

In the silence, Yang tells Jaune that they spent a lot of time today listening to _her_ problems. Maybe they should talk about his again.

The offer is tempting but he isn't quite ready. He wants to take his mind off it but lately his usual substitutes have been less effective. (Spending time with Yang has been dangerously enticing, and he's starting to wonder if he watered down his whiskey a little too much tonight).

"How about a different substitute?"

She pushes off the couch and tells him to wait right there. He does get up to change his shirt but it's taking so long for Yang to come out that he's starting to worry.

He approaches her door.

She bursts out of it. "Sorry," she says. "It's the only white dress I have." She's wearing the same dress she had at the dance. "It's no wedding gown, but with this on, maybe you'll stop thinking about her."

The idea that he'll think about _her_ instead eludes her for a second before they're both thinking about it and her smiles gets awkward. Worse when he won't say a thing and his eyes have been wide this entire time.

She powers through and plays a song on her scroll. "You said they played something by Ivy Garden at the reception. I'm guessing this is it?"

He nods along as guitar strings rattle off into the room, filling the gaps till the wallpaper turns marble, a band plays on the stage, lavender drapes fall over the frosted glass where moonlight shimmers faintly in the gaps. And she is there, skin a rich chocolate brown, eyes like polished hickory.

Then she takes a step in his direction and her hair is a rich blonde, and her skin is pale and… "Yang? You… You don't have to do this…"

"Hush. You won't talk, so let's not talk. Let's try something else here and see if this works for you."

It works. It works too well.

So they join hands and dance. It's slow and circular, around the center of the living room. She can't bring herself to look him in the eyes. Her head rests against his chest and that somehow makes it worse for him. Especially when she loops her hands around his neck.

He wants so much to ask for more, but can't. His hands are shaking when they're squeezing her hips gently. She notices and pulls her head against his Adam's apple. Her warmth pools over him like a scarf, curling him inwards till his eyes go hazy and his lips hover dangerously over her scalp.

The music stops. The world comes back together, to the present, to their apartment.

Yang hesitates to ask if it worked. When she pulls her head out of his chest, she's surprised to find him breathless. He slowly comes back to his senses.

He takes a step back and immediately reaches for his flask. He downs it but the buzz is missing still, even when he empties it down his throat.

His cheeks don't flare. His thoughts don't cloud. All he has is clarity and it gnaws at the desires within reach. At her.

He almost kisses her, lips quivering, fists balled as his flask clatters to the floor. He clearly isn't sure where to put himself, even if a deep part of him already knows.

Yang decides that she isn't the kind of girl that lets something like this slip by.

She is so warm that her lips feel like she's branding him when they kiss; clamping on the delicate flesh of his lower lip with a desperation he should have seen coming. She'd been holding back, and when he bit back, he knew he was too.

White noise filtered into her ears as she became painfully aware of her own heartbeat. It was erratic, beating off-rhythm and she knows she's afraid. He said he was against this before, and the fear that she might be making a mistake again makes her shudder.

But then she moans when he pulls her in and dips a few degrees till she's curling against him. And she realizes that he isn't pulling away. It beckons him like a siren song, plunging him through the haze of his mind – not knowing that he's already found her – to be captivated, taken completely as if drowning in her.

When he leaves her lips, he presses his forehead to hers. His breath tickles her nose. She edges into him again.

Her kiss, then, is featherlight. Brief and affectionate. She wills herself to pull away; lets him breathe and take it in.

"I don't think this is love," he says.

"I don't think either of us are wise enough to tell the difference," she replies.

The idea that she might be right, that maybe this is okay, snaps something inside of him. She's willing to let him indulge just as long she's doing the same. Maybe he won't hurt her by not falling in love. Maybe this is okay. Maybe… Maybe…

He lets go, leaning back against the couch. He's thinking to himself. Wrestling with rationale.

She wants to comfort him, to tell him it's alright. That won't have to change if they don't need to. So she places a hand on his chest to get his attention, but he's so shocked by the sudden contact that he falls back and grabs onto her dress strap as they collapse onto the couch.

He's lying on the couch now with her bodily over his stomach.

She laughs and so does he, both falling away again into natural diffusion.

He thinks himself safe. The burning tension has withered, but just like before, Yang is unwilling to let things end so anticlimactically.

She gets up and sits on his waist. For a moment he's confused until she falls on him like timberwood. His body – the massive _traitor_ that it is – welcomes her embrace with familiarity.

She laughs between breaths.

There's less heat and more comfort. Less passion and more affection. Indulgence in a way that is almost innocent. For a moment he needs to breathe but she clamps over his mouth. His annoyance spurs her on like it's a game. She's still laughing.

Then he opens his mouth. She slips in a tongue by accident.

They shudder.

They're boiling again, eyes shut to whatever is rumbling between them. His hands travel up her legs. A heat crawls over her skin. Then his fingers tease at the edge of her skirt.

She yelps, pulling away.

Yang realizes, rather succinctly, that she wasn't completely ready.

"Yang?"

"I… Okay, I'm not… I don't know about that yet."

His fingers are still on her legs. They're not even very far up but the places he touches tickle in a way that is electrifying.

He slips out from under her as she sits back against the arm rest of the couch. Her body curled up. Guarded.

An ache settles in his chest. "Yang, I'm so – "

She unfurls. "Don't!" She reaches over and grabs his hands. "Don't… Don't apologize. We wanted this, didn't we? I'm just not mentally prepared to do anything but make out right now."

"You make it sound like there's going to be a second time."

"You forget," she says with a grin, "this _is_ the second time."

"Oh."

"Look, Jaune. I think we've got a good thing going on right now. We're not taking anything from each other, we have fun, and we _both_ know that we needed this."

"You're a little more optimistic about this than I am."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"I just hope it means things won't end poorly."

She squeezes his hand. "I don't know what it is that we've got going on right now, so I can't tell you that things won't end well or… _not_." She scooches closer. "But I'll try my best. Trust me?"

She's so earnest that he banishes doubts long enough to answer. He kisses her instead with the same featherlight comfort she'd given him earlier.

She hums appreciatively. "I think I like it when you say ' _yes'_ this way."

"That a rule now?"

"Maybe. Prepare lip balm. You'll have room now that you won't need that flask anymore."

"I'm not attaching myself to you 24/7. I'm keeping the whiskey."

"I mean, you _could_ attach yourself to me 24/7."

"You can't be serious…"

She slaps his arm, laughing. "I'm not! I'm joking! Lighten up a little."

"Sorry. This is… new to me. It feels like I've skipped a few steps and broken a ton of rules somehow."

"No, I get you, but try not to dissolve into a wet blanket." He pouts. She beams and powers on. "We're two consenting almost-adults here. There's nothing wrong with what we're doing."

"Some people would disagree."

"And _some people_ are wrong and can _stuff it_." Now that she's calm, she finds that she can still smell the saltwater in his socks. He's probably uncomfortable right now. She stands up. "Now we should both take a bath. This makeup is starting to feel like I'm wearing a mask pressed around my eyes."

"Shouldn't we talk this out a bit more? Lay down some ground rules?"

"In the morning. I'd like to enjoy the prospect of what I _can_ do without having to think about what I _can't._ "

He sighs but warmth bubbles into his chest. "Fine. In the morning."

"Good." She walks up to her door. She stops before she opens it. "Oh, and… don't lock your door."

**-0-**

It's past midnight when Jaune hears his door open. He tries to squeeze his eyes shut to try to ignore what's coming, but once Yang slips into his sheets and hums happily against his chest, he finds himself painfully aware of the body pressed to his.

"What are you doing?" he asks.

"Being too close but not close enough."

He chooses not to question it.

She slips up further, breath on his neck. She bites. His aura flares up on instinct and she barely gets to his skin, tasting air instead.

"Uh…" he drones awkwardly.

She buries her face into his chest. "Shut up. I was trying to be hot."

"I think we've had enough excitement for one night."

"Lower your aura."

"Yang, c'mon…"

"Jaune…"

He sighs. "Fine…"

**-0-**

"So this morning, she sneaks up to me while I'm coming into the hallway and she _bites me,_ " Jaune says, pointing at his neck. "Then she hands me this bandage before she runs off."

"That sounds dangerously risqué," Joan comments.

Ruby is burying herself in her hood meanwhile, trying to contain her embarrassment.

"That's cause I bit her lip last night for revenge from last time."

Ruby crawls out of her hood and slaps her cheeks. They're still red but she doesn't care at this point. "Okay, so you _aren't_ together?"

"Nora described it as together but not together-together."

"You and I both know that makes _zero_ sense."

"Exactly. That's what makes it _perfect._ It makes about as much sense as our relationship."

Joan groans. "I can tell Yang came up with that one. It's one of those rules you two talked about, isn't it?"

He nods. "Hundred-percent."

Yang enters the cafeteria and spots them immediately. "Hey, you," she says with a purr. When she sits down, he kisses her cheek.

Ruby retreats back into her hood, gets up, and walks away. Joan rolls her eyes and follows after her.

"You were right," Jaune says, "this _is_ fun."

"Glad you think so. Cause I'm about to sprinkle a bit of madness your way."

Dread hitches itself like prickled grass on his skin. "Okay… Hit me."

"My uncle's coming to Beacon."

"Uh… That's not so bad. Qrow and I are friends."

"No, you don't understand. He saw us at the park and followed us to the apartment to make sure we got home safe."

"Oh… oh, fuck. How much… how much did he hear?"

"Enough to want to meet with your privately. He told me not to tell you. He'll message you later tonight."

"He's going to kill me, isn't he?"

She winces. "Worse."

" _What?_ "

"Qrow wasn't mad on the phone. He was… _embarrassed_."

Simultaneously he felt relief and yet more dread. "Oh… oh no…"


	4. Coping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So this story was supposed to be updated every few days but between my job, writing other things, and gaming, I managed to develop a mild case of Carpal Tunnel Syndrome. Because it's not severe, I can comfortably get back to publishing in about three to four weeks. So thank you for all your patience to anyone who's still waiting on this.
> 
> That said, I'd like to clarify some things. Firstly, this story will never be abandoned. If I post something here, rest assured I'll get it finished eventually. Secondly, this is a transitionary chapter. Part 5 was supposed to be out at the same time because transitionary chapters suck and allude to plot instead of develop them, but it hurts my wrists to even type this description (I felt it poor form to leave you guys hanging so here I am anyway).
> 
> Anyway, thank you for putting up with me. When I get back, I'll try to get more out as an apology.

**PART 4 – Coping**

Qrow isn't exactly the intimidating uncle so much as he is the nervous older friend. Sure, he comes in with cheek and swagger, but he hesitates sometimes and watches what he says. Things are uncomfortable for a while.

Jaune and Qrow are sitting alone on the sofa, eyes passed the TV and out the window. Jaune breaks the silence and asks him how he knew. Qrow, surprisingly, explains that he turned into a bird and followed them home. He fully intended to leave when they got into the door but then he overheard the bit about Ruby going missing so he sat by the window and waited for updates.

He fell asleep on the windowsill.

Yang's moaning woke him up.

Both men don't even dare look each other in the eye. They both agree _not_ to bring that up with her for as long as they live.

It's minutes later after they've both taken a swig from their flasks that Qrow asks, "So what are you two?"

"I don't know," he answers; almost apologetic. Almost fearful, but not of Qrow. "We're close and trying to… forget things."

"Yeah, I can see that." Qrow takes another swig. "Tell me, is this about Tai and Rae?"

"More than a little, yeah."

"Those two idiots aren't the least bit careful anymore… I'm sorry she's lumping it onto you. If I'd done better, none of this would have happened."

"I don't mind just listening to her."

"I know. It's the fact that she has to go through it at all… She's still in school. Distractions are dangerous when you're still fresh on the hunt."

Jaune laughs. "She's been doing this for years. If anything, _I'm_ the one that's still green."

"You runts don't get to be proper huntsmen unless you've faced a real, proper threat or graduated. To a licensed huntsman, there's a reason why you're all still _in-training._ All the glory and shit is the stuff you gotta revel in while you're still in the safety of these halls instead of roughing it in the wilds day after day, facing odds stacked against you."

Qrow is amicable, asking only that he doesn't also seduce Ruby. Jaune's confusion is answer enough. He's no Casanova. He isn't Taiyang. Qrow has it that he believes men like him are unprepared as partners and fathers. Jaune disagrees, saying that his own father was like Tai. To him, any man can work their way into being a proper partner.

They talk about it for long enough that Yang stumbles back into the apartment. She hopes Qrow hasn't spilled any embarrassing stories about her.

They're deftly quiet at that.

**-0-**

Yang doesn't stay long (it isn't like she spends every weekend with him after all), but she lingers at the door. She hears their muffled voices through the gaps but she doesn't strain her ears to decipher them. She isn't here to eavesdrop.

She hears them laugh. Briefly, she wonders if even Qrow knows Jaune more than she does.

Breathing evenly, she calms the fiery doubts and walks off.

**-0-**

"What are your intentions?" Qrow asks an hour later, once he's sure Yang is long gone because of course he knows when she's there.

"We didn't sleep together."

Qrow winces at the thought of them. Then it's so _deeply_ uncomfortable that his whole body shudders. "Ah, god, fuck! Damn it, kid, I don't want to think about you two naked! How would you feel if I shared my stories with you!"

Jaune, similarly, melts down at the thought.

Yang actually comes back because she forgot Ember Celica. She hears them freaking out through the door and pivots into the other direction. Blake asks about her bracelets. Yang says it isn't important right now.

**-0-**

Jaune and Qrow sip their flasks at the same time. They joke about it.

When it's quieter, Qrow can see in his eyes that he wants to ask something so he encourages him to.

Jaune, with an uneasy breath, asks what Qrow is always drinking to forget.

Turns out, he doesn't drink to forget. Drinking is when he does the most thinking, actually.

Drinking is a hobby. Less a recreational drug and more a medicinal one. "Confused? Let me explain…" He doesn't recommend it but he's built up such a tolerance for it before he even went to be Beacon as a kid that it's all basically like water to him. Alcohol _isn't_ his coping mechanism, but he confesses that he does technically have one if it can be called that.

He lost an old friend a long time ago and he isn't sure if his semblance is to blame. The thought has haunted him since. Grief mixed so deeply with poisoned guilt has made him obsessed with loneliness.

He enjoys the quiet nights sitting alone at home, eying the moon, dreaming of what ifs. He enjoys sitting in meadows, letting Summer heat hold him like a familiar embrace. He enjoys hunting solo and coming out on top, all in her name. It's proof that, even in death, she's still the best partner he ever had.

Alcohol is normalcy. It's where he thinks the most clearly, acts the most boldly, acts like _himself_. Being sober unsettles his mind, makes him act irrationally.

Somehow it makes sense. He always did seem the more sober man when he's got a flask in his hand. Even subconsciously, Jaune realizes that he's made that his gospel.

Qrow warns that it certainly isn't the same way with Jaune. (Jaune knows, of course. His tolerance is likely as weak Ruby's might be.) But Qrow confesses to being more worried about what he might do if he drinks too much. He saw all the whiskey in the fridge.

"I'm not going to hurt Yang. I stop myself from going too far."

"I don't mean Yang. She can handle herself around you, I'm sure." Qrow shows him a photo on his scroll. " _This_ is what I'm worried about."

Jaune reels. He feels a few things. Mostly anguish, discomfort. Saphron and Terra are in Vale.

"When was this?"

"This morning. I thought they'd show up today and that I could be your convenient alibi for having an occupied guest room once they dropped in, but it looks they're busy doing whatever it is they're actually supposed to be doing in the city."

"They're going to come by eventually. Even if not today then…"

"I can't stay, kid," Qrow says, cautiously, quietly. "You facing them is just as inevitable as their visit. I'm no good at this stuff but... my advice: Don't run."

**-0-**

Yang comes back to Jaune sat at the sofa, staring at a movie he isn't watching. Yang turns it off and when the screen buzzes into silence, Jaune finally realizes she's in the room.

He doesn't notice the many bags she brought with her.

When she asks what's going on, he tells her that Terra is in town.

Yang asks if Saphron is with her.

He realizes that he forgot to mention his own sister.

Yang takes his hand and leans into his side. "It's that bad, huh?"

His free hand pulls out the now empty flask. "I might need more than the watered down whiskey."

She sits on his lap and pushes his flask away. "Get drunk on me." Her eyes are half-lidded and pleading, a promise etched into the wetness of her lips and heat rolling off her breath.

He does what she asks.

They press together so closely that he feels another one of inhibitions snap.

That night he decides – without really thinking about why – to steal a kiss while she sleeps. He realizes that the gesture is far too affectionate than it should be but can't bring himself to regret it.

She was awake the whole time.


	5. Accommodation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So I was woefully incorrect last time I was here. I'd assumed that my Carpal Tunnel Syndrome would clear in 3-4 weeks. Apparently not. That's how long you wait to see any improvement. Now I have been improving very slowly, but I'm not fully back yet. Writing this entire chapter has been a slow crawl to get through but here it is. This, however, does mean I'll not be able to back to speed like I wanted but here's hoping it'll take just a few months rather than a year to heal.

**PART 5 – Accomodation**

Yang fixates on the kiss. Not that it's changed how she feels or how she's going to feel, only that she wonders what's changed for _him_ with _her._ She finds herself lingering on his silhouette in bed, paying attention to subtleties in his tone, the way he moves around her or if he catches himself saying anything he wants to say but can't.

And all she's found in mapping him out is that he's no different from before.

Blake tells her that it could mean any number of things. Weiss maintains that it has to be burgeoning love. Ruby, much to their surprise, tells them that it was probably a moment of weakness and that he probably still doesn't know what it means.

The girls – Pyrrha included – suggest that Ruby is probably right. But Yang finds herself unwilling to accept it. She isn't one for sitting still. So instead of deferring to their wisdom… she hatches a plan.

It falls apart immediately.

**-0-**

Lingerie is her first idea, a vibrant red with thin enough material to tear off with ease. Scented candles to fill the spaces, lighting the bed and the nightstands while drowning the rest in dark. A nice ambient drone off the speakers in another room just to fill any silence. And makeup, the kind that layers thick and she feels physically on her face but comes recommended from Coco's article on a magazine.

She calls up Pyrrha to coach her on it, but the girl only blinks at her beyond the digital lense and asks, "Do you want him to sleep with you or fall in love?"

At first, Yang is confused until she takes a good hard look at herself in the mirror and… doesn't recognize who's looking back at her.

"I don't know," she says honestly. She smiles placatively and hangs up. Pyrrha knows she'll figure it out, but Yang has to first get rid of the mess she's made in his bedroom. Everything else will follow after.

She tosses the heels in the bin (they were cheap anyway), rips off her stockings, and covers up the rest in a bath robe. She tries to wash off the makeup but it smears and will take longer than she has time for. She tries too frantically to get the candles out and accidentally sets fire to one of his chairs – she ends up violently launching it into the tiled shower wall and leaves the shower running.

Finally was the music wafting in from the living room, playing off her scroll. She's already halfway into the living room when the front door opens. She freezes in place just as Jaune is letting in his guests, Saphron and Terra.

Yang doesn't know Saphron, not really, but there's a mutual trust between them when the older girl runs over to her, takes her by the wrist, and drags her back into Jaune's room.

Minutes later, Saphron is dabbing some solution on her cheeks. The makeup comes off in clumps – some semblance of relief comes with them.

"I'm Yang," she says suddenly.

Saphron's bemused smile banishes any tension she has left. Yang already embarrassed herself and not much could make it worse at this point when your first impression is half naked in the living room. She'd also spied the lingerie but she'd thankfully neglected to mention the familiar strap peeking off her shoulder.

"Saphron," she says but says no more. She focuses on the task at hand and Yang quiets with her. Then Saphron starts humming. It's familiar, as if carved out of a chapter in her life that she can hardly remember. Suddenly it's clear that this woman is a mother.

"My brother mention me a lot?" Saphron asks.

"He tries not to but can't help it. You always manage to come up in his stories to curb his nonsense. You'd be a punchline if the stories were supposed to be funny."

"Tends to happen." Saphron winks. "Us older sisters have to butt in all the time."

"He told you about me and Ruby?" She wasn't expecting to come up in conversation.

"No… I can just tell." Another smile. More secretly knowing. And she is briefly afraid that all her secrets have already been laid bare. "He told me you were his roommate."

"Ah." A safe descriptor. She'd been expecting a cover story like being his live-in girlfriend. She'd even prepared the lines and a backstory. It's a small a comfort that doesn't have to go through that.

Saphron pouts for a moment before her eyes turn devilish. "He also mentioned that you two share a bed and make out." Yang blinks at her. Her confusion also confuses Saphron. Isn't that supposed to be embarrassing? "Is… was he _wrong_?"

"Uh… no. That's exactly it. I guess I just wasn't expecting the _truth_."

"And you really aren't sleeping together?" Saphron peels the gown off her shoulder and tugs at the bra strap. Yang yelps when it snaps back into place. "With an outfit like this?"

"It was a lapse in judgement." She gestures to herself. "I swear this isn't how I normally am. I don't think I'll ever put on something like this ever again."

"Hm… a honeymoon might change your mind, but let's not dwell on that. You've got scented candles in the corner and I can smell…" – she sniffs the air – "burnt wood from the bathroom? What led to all this?"

"I'm… not sure I should say."

Saphron takes Yang's hands in hers. "You don't have to tell me, but it feels like you're struggling with something all on your own."

"I'm not, actually," she admits sheepishly. "I just didn't take anyone's advice. I don't like the idea of waiting for something to happen when I can already do something about it."

"There _is_ value in patience."

"I don't think waiting is my problem. I think I'm just too proactive to do _nothing_."

"My brother leave you hanging or something?"

"Kind of? … I've said too much already."

"Or not enough." She smiles in that way again. As if knowing. "But I won't pry. I know that sometimes it's better to wait and come to your own conclusions. Right or wrong, a decision you make yourself stays with you and sometimes that's more valuable than being handed the keys to the castle."

"You really think highly of Jaune, don't you?"

"Hm? What makes you say that?"

"I've never heard someone describe the way to someone's heart as 'keys to a castle'."

Saphron gives her a catty cheek. "Oh, so you _are_ in love with him." But she is surprised again when Yang doesn't blush.

She shrugs instead, looking away. Not out of embarrassment but to eye her own fragmentary reflection on the corner of the vanity's mirror. "I wouldn't know. I've never been in love before."

"But… you're so pretty."

"So is Jaune. So is my sister. And all but one of my roommates have never even kissed anyone before coming to Beacon. It isn't like we don't have time to fall in love, it's just not always our biggest concern. They drill it in you early that staying alive out there should be your priority." She eyes the bra strap on her shoulder in the mirror, hates what it represents, what it almost made her do. She pulls up the sleeve again, hiding it away, and she almost looks like herself. "I think that's why I like being around him. He doesn't pass judgement on whether not my problems are big or small. He just knows they're important to me and lets me be heard."

"Is being a good listener what you look for in a partner?"

"It might." She laughs. "It's hardly an extensive list, though, isn't it?"

Saphron huffs, settling herself comfortably beside her and dusting off her skirt. "Lists are overrated. Not that you shouldn't have _standards_ , but if you want to extensively checklist every potential partner, you'll end up with a growing criteria less and less people will be able to fill. And trust me, I've lived a storied life – been dating people since I was fifteen – and I've found that it's easier to talk to people and let things click. Hell, I wasn't even trying to flirt with Terra when we first met. She was the wingwoman to the girl I was actually trying to get with and we just happened to get along better."

"Sounds like quite the story."

"Why don't I tell you over dinner? It'd be a nice little preamble to me and Terra. I suspect we'll be meeting quite often in the near future."

"I guess I will be tagging along with Jaune if you really want me to."

"If I really want you to? You sound a little meek there," Saphron teases. "Jaune described you as the kind of girl with confidence to rival a peacock. Was my brother wrong or are you just starting to sound like him?"

"Hey, I don't…! Oh shit, you're right."

"Fair tradeoff, I suppose. Jaune's got peacock confidence now and I guess you're to blame."

"Ha! No, I can't take credit for that. Pyrrha – his ex – I'm sure she's your culprit."

"We've met. Jaune brought her over last year before they started dating. Wasn't even going to take her to the dance, the little dunce."

"Oh, but they hooked up that night! After they both showed up stag and he tore up the dance floor in a dress."

"A **DRESS**!?" Saphron screamed, her eyes lighting up with mischief Yang realizes she's just armed her with.

A knock at the door. "Everything alright in there?" Jaune asks, muffled through the mahogany.

"We're fine!" Yang says.

" _Peachy_ , little brother," Saphron adds with a flare of sarcasm, "but you're going to regret keeping secrets from me."

"Yang!" Jaune screeches, panicked. "What did you tell her?"

Yang laughs, hearty and comfortable with Saphron snickering beside her. It almost feels right, like it's something that always should have been, and she wonders why she was ever so afraid. "What you should have told her! You know you can't keep secrets from big sisters!"

"Oh really? I can promise you that there are secrets Ruby hasn't told you."

Yang shot up from her seat. "What!?"

Saphron sits back. " _Aren't you two lively…_ " she whispers.

"I'm no snitch, Xiao Long!" Jaune shouts, snark clear in his voice.

"You'll fess up one way or another!" Yang, in her excitement, marches to the door.

Saphron bolts out of her place and grabs her arm. "You're still underdressed," she says calmly, belying the panic quickened in her chest.

Yang looks down at herself. She's showing a little cleavage too with the loosened bath robe. She takes an extra step back for good measure and clutches the lapels closed.

"C'mon. You're looking a little too comfortable now. Let's find you something modest." Saphron tugs her towards the closet.

"Backing down already?" Jaune said in what – to him – was a moment of silence.

"I'll get you yet, Vomit Boy!" Yang jeers.

Saphron perks up. "Vomit Boy?"

Jaune groans behind the door. "Yang!"

Yang, despite the grin tugging at her cheeks, silently promises to make it up to him later.

**-0-**

Jaune stands in the center of his living room, staring at his shut door. Saphron has just dragged Yang into it, and his mind has been reeling with what he'd seen. Barely dressed, slow music off her scroll, and with smeared makeup on? He doesn't want to come to any conclusions, not without talking to her first, but the obvious ones come to mind.

He isn't certain he can reckon with the inevitable outcome.

Behind him, Terra sensibly cuts off Yang's music playing off her scroll. Jaune nearly jumps when he's brought out of his stupor and into her beautiful, _suffocating_ presence. Terra is still as captivating as he remembers, tinted with the gloss of a boyhood crush that refuses to die. At least with Saphron around he could suffuse it, but not alone in the heavy quiet of his apartment.

Terra gives him a bemused smile. Ever sympathetic. She pats the seat cushion beside her and Jaune joins her, plopping on the cushion with a held breath he eases out of himself.

"You seem surprised," Terra says. "And here I thought you'd already seen her in less."

"I _did_ say we've only made out… and snuggled." He can't decide which one is more scandalous. Perhaps neither. Or both, given that they aren't even dating.

"Yeah, despite that being unusual enough to be true, I still had my doubts."

"Have any still?"

"No. You definitely don't look like the kind of couple that's seen each other naked."

Jaune's eyes narrow. "We're not a couple."

"I believe you," she says with a smile. She's so dangerously close to him that he can smell her perfume. A glance shows him that she's eying him expectantly. He's tense, uncertain, and it's clear that she can see that. She pulls away, giving him room to breathe. "Guessing you've still got a crush on me then?"

His spine gets stiffer, spotting her at the corner of his eye because he refuses to look directly at her. She's smiling still. Being cheeky. "Terra…" he groans.

She scooches a little closer again (taking a chance that his nerves might not erupt), and lets his heat wash over her and lets him feel hers. The affection is platonic, he knows that. He and his sisters huddle together for comfort often, and Terra has just learned to follow suit. But he can't help but revel in it, letting it sink into his pores till it leaves a familiar tingle.

A small part of him hates it but mostly hates himself for indulging.

"If I asked you why, would you tell me?" Her tone is quiet, almost a whisper. She's trying to ease him.

"Because you cared about me."

She chuckles because it's naïve and honest and oh so very like him that it's almost nostalgic. "Was that really all?"

"When you're young and naïve, that's all it takes."

"I didn't know you were lonely."

It was his turn to chuckle. "I wasn't. I was never some lonely little kid who didn't have any friends. I had enough love from my sisters alone to fill my heart a hundred times over."

"Then why?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. Do I need to have been missing something in my life to want to fall in love?"

Her feet shuffles in place. "I guess I haven't seen it that way. After I was old enough to date, I'd not gone a year without someone I wanted to be with or was _already_ with. I always felt like love completed me, like it does now with Saph… Is that _not_ how you feel?"

"I'm… I'm not saying love doesn't make me _happy_ or anything. It's just that I don't feel like I need it to feel whole. I don't think it'd complete me, just that it might be nice to have too. Is that not how _you_ feel?"

She chuckles again, a nervous uncertainty tinting her quiet, teahouse melody. "I don't know. Never been without it, really. At least not for long."

He looks at her – examines her, really – because her cheek is gone, as is her confidence, and it feels like she's revealing her artifice in a vulnerable moment. She's digging gaps into her own thoughts and he can see her pick apart her own internal logic and she seems more and less somehow. Like she's less the perfect cut gem he thought she was and sees the girl underneath it.

He's less tense all of a sudden.

And for a moment he feels like he can come to grips with everything that she is. Who she was to him, who she wasn't, and who she's become. A boyhood crush, flightful fantasy, and… he can't bring himself to think of the last. Fist clenching and unclenching, a slow motion that tries to hide the trembling in his digits.

He swallows and he worries if she can hear it. She doesn't, but she can see something's troubling him.

"How's Adrian?" he asks.

"Oh, he's –"

"A **DRESS**!?" Saphron screams from beyond the locked bedroom door.

Jaune jolts up from his seat and nearly bumps into Terra who'd stood along with him. She steps aside and he hurries to the door, asking after them. Terra tries not to pay attention (she can barely hear what they say beyond the door anyhow) but then he mentions Yang's sister, Ruby – the girl Terra thought he actually has a crush on – and Yang audibly shouts, "What!?" passed the door at him.

" _Aren't you two lively…_ " Terra whispers.

**-0-**

Dinner is a largely pleasant affair until the alcohol gets introduced. The hills of drink they stack onto the table to peruse intimidates Jaune and he cautions that he cannot – _will not_ – drink anything that isn't at least on the rocks. He'll shoulder tomorrow's regret but he doesn't want to sleep through the sun burning through the morning and afternoon.

Saphron and Terra share a glance before pulling something out of Terra's bag. _Diadem_ , a vintage Vacuan drink stronger than everything else on the table. They only ask that he a takes a shot. It'll buzz him through the evening.

It's too strong and he nearly hurls.

Yang half remembers all the stories they tell. Saphron regales them with tales of how she met Terra, the proposal, the wedding, and even the honeymoon off the coast of Menagerie. Jaune spouts on about his team and a misadventure with his twin on an old farm and a horse, and Yang, somehow, talks about a food fight _twice._ It's funnier the second time around.

There's a gap in her memory of whatever story Terra was telling because she fixates on one part and can't focus on anything else. "…she's little Adrian's babysitter," she mentions briefly but doesn't have the faculties to ask about.

When Saph and Terra leave for their hotel, things wind down and Yang's sitting on the sofa in Jaune's hoodie. Yang returns the shirt and shorts she borrowed but she feels like wearing something that's his might help with tonight.

Jaune joins her, easing down slowly as his head rides the waves of a dying Vacuan storm.

"Who's Adrian?" she asks.

He's quiet for a moment, perhaps from the drink. "He's Terra's son."

Yang can see it. Saphron isn't mentioned deliberately. He doesn't just forget this time. "Oh! From a previous marriage?"

He shakes his head. "No, nothing like that," he says, sobering up.

"A previous partner then?"

Jaune says nothing. He's sitting upright. Rigid and awake. There's something there. Maybe Terra had a previous partner he didn't like, but then things click into place. Realization sets in like headlights through the fog, suddenly and violently.

"Oh my god…" she whispers, "…he's _yours_."

He doesn't answer. Doesn't need to. She grabs onto his arm and pulls him into a hug. She's hit a nail on the head and panic sets in when she thinks she's opened up an old wound. It's precisely the kind of thing they're supposed to help each other forget. Only, Yang doesn't realize that Jaune is so caught off-guard by her sudden burst of affection that he's at first startled and – when she goes in for a kiss and ends up headbutting him instead – he ends up laughing it off.

His mirth is almost strange until it makes complete sense somehow. She's done her job, kept her end of the bargain, and now she's laughing with him too.

When he's calmed down, he lies back on the sofa when she goes to get a drink. She comes back to find him lying across the sofa and she makes the executive decision to just fall on top of him. She crashes into his stomach with a hefty _oof_ from him and she makes no apologies for retaliating.

"Sofa hog," she jeers from her perch on his chest, chin resting on her arms.

"I _bought_ it," he shoots back playfully, eying her down from the arm rest.

"Still pay half the rent. And I never asked you to pay me back when I foot the bill for refurbishing them."

"Wouldn't have needed to if Zwei didn't tear them up."

"It was a joint decision that we took him in for the week. You're as much to blame."

He sighs. "I guess I am."

It isn't actually an issue. They've basically already had this discussion and Yang had insisted on covering for it at the time. They're only stalling. Even Yang isn't quite sure she wants to go on.

She doesn't know how long it takes her to summon the courage to speak again. All she knows is that he's willing to answer, even if it would be easier for both of them to stay ignorant. To let these problems solve themselves and never to bear your heart until it is absolutely necessary.

But she speaks anyway. "I thought it was the wedding that got to you."

And so does he. "No, it… it just _happened_ at the wedding. Saph had to go talk to an old classmate and so she left Terra with me. I was already holding Adrian and with Joan running off somewhere, we were alone. Just me, Terra… and our son. It hit me then. Slowly, like when you stare at yourself in the mirror at the night of a recital. You think, 'This is it. This is where things fall apart… or meet in the middle.' I knew I had to make peace with it before it got worse."

"And your answer was watered-down whiskey the minute you got back home?"

He shrugs. "Qrow gives good advice."

"Hm… maybe. I still think mine is better."

"Oh? And what's that?"

She pushes herself up over him, arms at either side of his head till her silhouette is against the dim glow of the incandescent bulb, warm light pooling through her hair till it looks like it's on fire. "Get drunk on me," she says, her breath tickling his nose and burning his lips.

But he doesn't kiss her. She sees the way his lips quiver, almost wanting to, but he doesn't even try.

She retreats instead, nestling back onto his chest but his cheeks are still burning and she swears hers are too. The room feels like it's boiling.

"When we kiss, do you think of her?"

"Never," he says honestly, and that seems to be the part that stings the most to him. "That's the most dangerous thing about you. You don't taste, feel, or smell like anyone else." He looks at her and only her, and she shrinks away as she gets up and off of him because she feels like a moon in a sea of stars, and as he straightens up and sits parallel to her, his eyes never leave, like a captive witness.

He leans in, and she doesn't know if it's to kiss her or just her sheer pull on him. She ultimately doesn't decide. Their foreheads meet – her eyes are downward but locked to his lips – and she breathes quietly as she asks, "Jaune? Are you in love with me?"

"Yang, are you even sure _you_ are?"

"I… don't know yet."

He pulls away just an inch as something unsettling furrows his brow.

He gets up. "Gimme a minute," he says, and he's gone for just long enough for her to notice that the familiar heat she had pressed against her is missing.

She doesn't know what to expect when he comes back with his hand clutching a small object, but she would have never guessed a ring. It's nestled in a velvety box that he sits on the coffee table and he leaves it open as he sits down and watches it with her like it's some alien thing. He doesn't speak but he gives her a glance and…

It's then that she realizes that she's afraid. The look on her is uncertain – she can _feel_ it, and she feels it freeze on her features.

"Did you pick this out for me?"

He shakes his head. "It was supposed to be Pyrrha's."

She blinks. "Is… is this what scared Pyrrha off?"

"No… it's what scared _me_ off." He leans back against the sofa and she takes that as an invitation to do the same. They're huddled close, shoulder-to-shoulder. "Our breakup was only supposed to be temporary. Some tournament rival tried to pin her to a scandal when they found out she slept with me."

"What? Why would that be a problem?"

He snorts. "I was too young." Out loud, it sounds absurd.

"You were seventeen," she reasons.

"And Pyrrha was eighteen. As far as the law is concerned, Pyrrha slept with a minor."

Yang can feel herself coil up like a loaded spring. "Well, that's fucked! You're barely three months apart!"

"Didn't matter to them. Tabloids would have pinned it on her for the rest of her career. The context doesn't matter to the public."

"Okay…" she says slowly, stifling her frustrations for later. "So, what changed then? Why did you set her up with Sun?"

"Because I went to the wedding and found myself thinking about Terra again. It gave me some unhealthy doubts. I loved Pyrrha, I really did, but it felt wrong when I danced with Terra that night, holding our son in our arms… It felt like I'd betrayed Pyrrha somehow, even in my own mind, by feeling those things. It didn't matter that I didn't actually do anything about it."

"That's not how feelings work though," she says. "You're supposed to have doubts sometimes because people aren't perfect or consistent. Life isn't fiction, Jaune."

"I know that now." He shrugs, resigned in a way. "I found out a little too late though."

"How did you even get Pyrrha to agree to this?"

"She's not very honest about her feelings. Doesn't have the courage to be. When she heard that I'd pushed Sun to ask her out because Nora can't keep a secret, she thought that I might have given up on her. By the time we got the chance to be honest about it, she'd already gotten to know Sun enough to start taking him seriously."

Yang glances back at the ring. Not quite as alien as it was earlier. It just seems strange now, like it's out of place. There's a small comfort in that. "So where does the ring come in?"

"I got it as a sort of celebration when we would get back together, but then people started asking about what it meant and… it felt like I'd stumbled onto some _finality_ between us. Like I'd somehow found ' _the one_ ' over a year of friendship, a few dates, and showing up to the dance in a dress."

Yang smiles. Not because he seemed silly at the time, but because _he's_ smiling. Because, in spite of his somber reflections, he can't help but feel like what he'd done turned out to be a triumph.

Her arm loops into his and his head leans on hers in response. "Doesn't sound like a bad set up to me," Yang says, shrugging against his arm. "If anything, it sounds like the stars aligned for you two." She speaks honestly. Forgets herself and sees him as Pyrrha's too-perfect other half to a too-perfect couple. If things hadn't turned out the way they did, she might have cheered them on for the rest of their lives. But that isn't how it turned out.

"That's what everyone was saying. It's like we'd ripped ourselves out of a fairytale, only I was a dense, blind princess and she was some stoic, stubborn prince. But it put a lot of pressure on us, living up to that story, and it felt like I wasn't as ready as I should have been. I came to Beacon unprepared for a lot of things. Might have hurt the people depending on me by not being ready. I was lucky my shield arm was always sturdy, but my heart wasn't. I naively worried that my inexperience would hurt us irreversibly." He rolls a hand over his knuckles. Contemplatively, regretfully. "I thought I was leaving her in good hands, but even if that's true, should I still have stayed instead? Did I have any right to decide if we should have stayed together or not?"

Her fingers slide off his arm and weave into his. She's huddling closer now, feet off the ground and knees tucked up to her chest. "I think, when we fall in love, we have to decide for ourselves if we want to keep going. We don't choose for the other in that. We choose for ourselves cause _we_ are who we're supposed to look out for. You have to protect yourself first." Yang clutches tighter, and somehow Jaune can tell that her mother is involved. "That's the beautiful thing about a love that works. We decide for ourselves and it all just happens to fall into place with someone else. It doesn't always magically align – sometimes you don't agree with what they want or how they take it – but real love compromises just as much as it just… _clicks_." Like her and her dad. And Ruby. And maybe – if things turn out alright – her mom.

He wants to believe her. Even if he and Pyrrha didn't pan out, they still love each other as friends and things ultimately haven't changed between them. They were always bound to work out their issues and it's clear now that they've compromised without needing to sacrifice the friendship they'd fostered together.

He wants to thank her, but her eyes are away and she's chewing her lip. Yang is thinking of something else. Her sigh cuts through the silence and she's too shy to look at him.

"Jaune, why did you kiss me?"

He blinks. "What?"

"Last night. In bed. While I was sleeping."

His eyes widen. He's been caught. "Is it really so unusual?"

"It is when you aren't thinking of Terra or Adrian. When you do it just because you wanted to."

"How… how could you tell?"

She can hear the panic in his voice. Caught and cornered, it makes her a little happy to know he's unable to hide it. But it's the speed of which he accepts his fate that gets her grinning, because it's as if a part of him is tired of hiding it. "Because you weren't trying to forget something. You weren't trying to tease me and I certainly can't flirt back when I'm asleep…" She shoots him a knowing look and he gulps through a feeble foundation of defiance. "It was none of that. You did it hoping I wouldn't notice. You did it because you were hiding something you wanted."

He crumbles under her teasing. "Y-Yang, I… I can't –"

"Shh, it's okay," she says evenly, defusing his tension and giving him a moment to breathe and look into her eyes. "Don't jump to a conclusion you aren't ready to make." Her tone is slow and deliberate, fingers gliding along the skin of his arm like a soothing, gentle caress. "I get it, Jaune. Like me, you're still trying to figure it out."

He pulls away but fixes her with a stern, serious look. She doesn't realize he's holding her hand till he's squeezing it. He's composed, certain, and so deftly drunk on _her_ that Yang remembers Jaune telling her that drowning in drink gives him clarity. "That's just it, Yang. I _know_ I feel something. I've been feeling a lot of things when I'm with you…" His confidence wanes before he admits that, "It's just that I haven't figured out what I'm supposed to do about it."

Yang blinks twice and tries to speak but can't. And suddenly she can't stop the curl of her cheeks when she feels a growing smile coming.

He's almost afraid. "Yang?"

"Sorry. I'm still… you know you just confessed, right?"

"Ha!" he laughs, heart squeezing his chest. Relief in many ways settling into his skin. "Were you expecting me to say 'I love you'?"

"…"

He chuckles. "Oh my god, Yang."

"Is it weird that I'm a little giddy about that total cliché? Say it again."

He thinks it a little much but the words are easy, flowing freely from his lips. "I love you."

"Agh! You're a serious cheat. Why is it so easy for you to say?'

"Cause I already made peace with it. You stood there in a white dress and I could see you tearing Terra out of that place in my mind and putting yourself there in her stead. I already knew. You've been nothing but a tidal wave to my emotions, just swallowing everything up and leaving little traces of yourself everywhere."

He settles back into the cushions, sinking comfortably into it. "I used to sit on this couch and scream curses at the moon through the window," he says. "Nowadays my eyes are glued to the screen watching a movie with you. I used to be careful about what I threw into the sink because I was afraid I'd have to call in a mechanic to fix the shredder again, and now I don't even give it a second thought."

"And you used to lie in bed thinking about her…" Yang teases.

"Actually, no. I was at peace when I went to bed. Pyrrha trained me to shut down once I got under the sheets. Nowadays it feels like the sandman keeps missing my eyes with the way you move me around in bed."

"I don't think your tongue's been doing much complaining."

"Seems you were willing to use more than just your tongue earlier," he says, teasing her. She shrinks a little, embarrassed. "What were you doing anyway?"

"I was, uh, trying to seduce you."

"Oh… What changed?"

She groans. "I guess my wires got crossed. I thought that if I got you to sleep with me, _this_ " – she gestures between them – "would suddenly clear up. But I'm not _that_ kind of girl. I don't put on lingerie all the time expecting you to see it. Not even sure I'm the kind of girl who wants her clothes ripped off when I get you riled up."

"Yeah, your outfits look expensive. Custom fit and embroidered."

"I wouldn't hit you if you tried, FYI. I'd maybe cry or get upset."

"I'll try not to ravage you through your clothes if that ever happens."

"If? Still don't think we're gonna end up doing the dirty tango after all we've been through? Seems inevitable at this point."

"I think we'll either do it when it makes sense or decide we aren't meant for each other."

"I don't know. I'm pretty snug right where I am." She gives him cheek, brimming with certainty. _Confidence._ "Still," she says more seriously, "are you really so ready to give up what we have? I don't see it happening, but it looks like you think we're just as likely to stay together as splitting up."

He looks away. Yang is surprised to find him embarrassed, not concerned.

"You don't actually feel that way," Yang says gleefully. "You're as sure as I am."

"I'm not ready to take that risk just yet," he confesses.

She moves to straddle him and loops her arms around his neck. "I can wait."

His hands grip her waist through the thickness of the hoodie. "I can't ask you to do that."

"I'm not asking you. I'm _telling_ you. I told you that love was about deciding for yourself and settling into compromises if our choices don't align. I'm _choosing_ to stay. And – I hope – we agree to compromise."

He takes a moment to look away before locking eyes with her. He leans in and pecks her lips so briefly that she doesn't get the chance to kiss back.

"Wh-what?"

"It's how I'm supposed to say yes, aren't I?"

She laughs and so does he. Yang was expecting to cap off the night with a kiss, pressing bodily into the sheets as their hands roam their bodies, but none of that happens. They clean the dinner the table, take separate baths, and settle into bed together.

She does kiss him on the neck for good measure but he realizes that he can still feel the kiss and it isn't because there's a tingle there. Cracking an eye open, he notices the gloss on her lips. "Are you wearing lipstick?"

"The light kind," she says. "Told myself I'd leave a mark on you during my little lapse earlier. I've decided not to give you a hickey. Consider it an act of mercy."

He shuts his eyes and tries to ignore it but can't. He's painfully aware of it and he just knows he's gonna smudge that on something. It'd be funny if it's Yang's face but he'd hate to get it on his sheets. He sits up. "Yeah, nope. I'm washing this off."

"What? C'mon!" She grabs onto him, anchoring him back into bed.

"Nope. Not doing it," he says defiantly.

"Have it your way, Arc. Hickey it is!"

"Wait, Yang! **Yang!** "

**-0-**

Jaune is reminded everyday that he showed up to brunch that following morning with a hickey his scarf couldn't hide. Yang makes it up to him by buying dessert.

The get-togethers go on and Yang is less and less embarrassed about openly teasing Jaune and showing her affections publicly. Jaune retaliates, of course, and they even get hot and bothered in the hallway of a movie theater. They spend the rest of the movie in a stall. Terra finds them and is honestly just surprised they haven't taken each other's clothes off… _ever._

Jaune and Yang don't tell them that neither of them and ready to go that far yet. Jaune takes the brunt of the blame and says that if he doesn't hold back, they'll end up doing something stupid. Saphron slips Jaune a condom and he regrets everything for the rest of the night.

Two weeks pass with much the same. Sometimes they introduce Saphron and Terra to some of their other friends, and they even manage a weekend together in a cottage near the coast. They're excited about reuniting with Pyrrha and they even meet Sun on her scroll.

Yang finds out that Saphron is every bit a mother as she is a big sister, and Jaune reminds her that she is practically no different herself.

Jaune learns that Qrow and Terra are old classmates and that they had more in common than they thought.

And after Joan is caught scheming with Nora and getting her and Ren back together, after Blake engorges the shrimp platter on a Schnee-sponsored dinner, after Weiss tames a friendly rivalry between Winter and Saphron about who has the cuter sibling, after Ruby gets her cheeks pinched till they go red cause she lost a bet and showed up in an adorable beowulf costume, and after Penny freaks out and her head pops off at dinner (her severed head still tries to chew on a salad)… their two weeks together are up and they're standing at the train station, ready to see them off.

It's been raining for the last few days and everything is damp and cold. Even the air is still thick with the smell of misty rain water and the sky hasn't seen the sun even peek through the cloud cover. It's almost a somber way to say goodbye.

Saphron is introducing Yang to her babysitter and little Adrian over a video call. Jaune stands aside, unwilling to let the last few weeks burn away at the sight of his biological son gurgling through the screen.

Terra nudges into his side. "Can we talk?"

He nods and she pulls them away beside a pillar. Saphron notices and winks at her wife.

"Is there something wrong?" Jaune asks.

"Nothing, actually. I might even say our impromptu vacation here might as well have been perfect."

"Impromptu?"

"I guess it never came up but… we were only supposed to be here for a few days."

"Why did you stick around then? Wouldn't that have been imposing on your babysitter?"

"Oh, Taffy was plenty happy to be at the house with Adrian. She's an orphan and she takes every excuse to come over." She leans in to whisper. " _We might even adopt her once I get a raise at the office so look forward to a niece!_ And, really, is it such a surprise that we enjoy spending time with you and your friends?"

"After the bonfire? I guess not."

"Good. Now that isn't why I needed to talk."

"Oh…" He glances at Yang a few feet away. He can barely hear her and Saphron through the rancor of the station.

"I know you've been holding back."

"Did Yang tell you that?"

"Call it a big sister's intuition."

"You're an only child."

"Not anymore, I'm not. Now I've got six little sisters and a not-so-little brother." She pats his chest then busies her hands with straightening his collar. "A little brother who is too afraid to take a chance and would much rather play it safe than play at all."

"Terra…"

"I know you're afraid that you aren't ready. I wasn't either. Hell, sometimes I worry I'll mess up and ruin a perfectly good marriage. These are all normal things to be afraid of, and for some people, these fears don't go away. We just learn to live with them."

She slides her hands to his arms and down to fingers till she's holding them softly and looking up at him. There's a quiet concern in her sad little smile that he isn't sure how to respond to.

"I think you've driven yourself to be so careful with your feelings that you've forgotten to just take things as they come," she says. "I know you have to be careful with your heart but the thing isn't made of glass. Even if it hurts, even if it hurts _easily,_ the fact that you're still in one piece should be more than enough proof that you aren't as fragile as you think you are. Maybe take a risk. Maybe love will hurt, but so few of us get better at it without giving it a shot first. Like a lot of things, Jaune, it takes a lot of trial and error."

"I've been down this road before already…"

She squeezes his hands. "And you'll go down it again and again. Sometimes people find love _once_ and that's all it takes. But for the rest of us? For most of us? We gotta keep trying."

With a kiss on the cheek and a whispered _'good luck'_ , Saphron and Terra disappear into accelerating train until even it vanishes into the horizon.

Jaune stares into the middle distance and Yang, much like Terra, nudges into his side. "What did you talk about?" she asks.

He shrugs. "Stuff."

"Oh, well that's lame. Should've had more to say to someone you really care about." It's clear she doesn't buy it.

He knows she doesn't. "Yeah, real shame I wasn't more profound and emotional."

She rolls her eyes because she'll let it be and won't pry for his sake. "C'mon, it's getting chilly out here and it might rain again with the wind picking up." She makes to walk off.

"Hey, Yang?"

She stops. "Yeah?"

For a moment he doesn't speak, his eyes are uncertain and elsewhere but then his fists clench as if he's just convinced himself to do something. "Wanna get dinner?" he asks, reaching out to take her by the hand. "We can put on something nice and there's a real fancy place with the best lobster in town."

Yang isn't sure how to take it. She doesn't resist when his thumb brushes over her knuckles, but she summons a bit of bravery herself, stepping closer and resting a fist against her beating chest. "Is… this a date?"

She yelps when he pulls her in. He kisses her, drowns her tongue and melts their bodies together till she's flush against him and tugging at his hair. There's still fear in his eyes when they pull away, but there's a determination in there she's happy to see. "Is that answer enough?"

She giggles through the haze of her burning cheeks. "Plenty."

Then she's on him this time and tilting him backwards with her lips alone until he's just as hazy. Still, he doesn't expect it when she clambers onto his back and slips into a piggyback ride before she starts laughing uncontrollably.

"Hiya, noble steed! To the bike!" she cheers from her perch atop his head.

He's laughing too, even if he's huffing a little from the jog to Bumblebee. "What's gotten into you?"

"I can't help it…" she whispers into his hair, excitement mixing into a bubbling cocktail with a giddiness she can't stop. "I'm happy."


	6. Prophetic

**PART 6 – Prophetic**

They decide very quickly that fancy dinner dates are most certainly not for them. They laugh too loudly and make a mess even the waiters stare at, and the alcohol is so expensive that they outright tell the waiter he shouldn't bother refilling the over-priced water they pretend is wine. And when they come out, they're reminded that the chauffeur winced when they drove here on a bike. They tell him not to bother fetching it and they just snatch the keys from his hands.

"Never again?" he asks, taking a helmet she offers.

"Never again," she confirms. "Would sooner go out to sea, catch _myself_ lobster, and cook it on the beach."

"Actually," he says contemplatively and pulling out his scroll, "that doesn't sound like a bad idea."

She gets off her bike to see what he is looking for. "Renting a boat?"

"Yeah, but you can't actually _fish_ for lobster. We'll have to sit around and wait for traps to trigger or – and I think this is a great idea – we can go snorkeling!"

"I'm into it," she says, but then a jolt runs through her skin and her smile widens. "Okay, I'm _really_ into it," she says with a laugh. "When's the date, lover boy?"

"I'd like to say a week, _honey bunch,_ " he says sarcastically, "but at the speed we take to get ready, I should say two."

"Hey, we got ready for _this_ date pretty quick."

"Leisure pace, Xiao Long. Let's try not to wear ourselves out like tonight. We can just get takeout dinners on the couch in the meanwhile."

She rolls her eyes playfully. "Riveting. You sure know how to excite a girl."

"It's not supposed to be riveting. It's routine."

"Yeah, we don't get take-out all the time for dinner. Wait, no, that ain't right. We've been getting take-out for a while now…" She realizes that Jaune's been ordering take-out subsequently.

Jaune shrugs. "I can only cook so much. Don't got much variety under my chef's hat, and I don't have time to find new recipes and get them down pat for basic, human consumption."

"You don't have to get them down, y'know? I'll be your guinea pig for your practice cooks!"

He deadpans. "I don't look forward to poisoning you."

She punches her chest. "Hey, my stomach could use a workout too. Gotta catch up to Nora somehow."

He sits on the bike and slips on the helmet. He turns on the comms for it as it links with hers. "That's a lost cause," he says through her inset speakers. "Ren and Nora used to rough it in Mistral for years before coming to civilization. Nora can spot a bad plant like it's glowing in the dark and Ren can make just about any of it useful. We city folk probably shouldn't be bothering."

Yang pulls out of the parking lot as he hugs her waist. "It's so easy to forget that they haven't lived a life like ours," she says. "They certainly don't show it."

"Ha ha! Ren secretly takes pride in that. He's glad no one can guess it without somehow being told."

The city zooms by them and Jaune is grateful that he doesn't have to figure out how to get home. He knows that will change once he gets a car, but that's a concern for another day. One day soon, though.

"I'm glad they're back together," Yang says. "They had me worried there."

"I wasn't worried. It was bound to happen, really. Though I am glad Joan saw it in herself to help."

"She might have impressed Nora more than she did Ren with that stunt. Hey, she ever tell you why she gave up on him?"

"He rejected her."

"Oh, _what_?"

"Yeah. Said she knew he'd turn her down, but she wanted to give it her all."

"That's mature of her."

"She _does_ want the elder hoodie back though. Says she earned it."

"I can give up the coziness of a good hoodie for that. Have half a mind just to set her up with somebody just so she can find someone for the dance."

"Oh, shit! I almost forgot the dance!"

"Firstly, yes, I'll take you."

She can feel his deadpan from behind her head. "You didn't even let me ask…"

" _Secondly_ ," she presses on, "since when do you curse?"

"Since I started going out with a brash little blonde."

"Hey, I'm not little!"

He chuckles. "You really are Ruby's sister… And you are to me. The day I have look up at you when we talk, we'll negotiate."

"You're taller than most of the campus! You're taller than most _teachers_. God knows how tall you'll be in your twenties!"

"Yeah, but I wouldn't be caught dead calling most of them little."

"And how the hell did I end up an exception? You see these _guns_? I can total a car if I needed to. They're certified artillery!"

He squeezes her stomach. She squeaks. "Like you'd hurt me, Xiao Long. You love me too much."

"…You're a cheat. You know that?"

"So I've been told. By a local blonde, you might know her."

"A trustworthy source, I hope."

"She's been honest with me so far but she's got no class in a fancy restaurant. Boisterous one, she is. Decides that having good time is better than hanging out with a bunch of hoity-toits."

"How deplorable!"

"Terrible!"

"Preposterous! She probably has terrible taste in men to boot!" She throws back her head in an exaggerated fashion.

"Oh, I can only imagine!" he scoffs dramatically. "Scraggly blondes from the sticks, maybe. Little more than a farm hand!"

"How grave!"

"Horrifying is what it is!"

They laugh.

"Still… sounds like they're made for each other," she says quietly but her mic picks it up and he hears it like a whisper in his ear.

"Yes, well… ruffians and riff-raff have to find love too, don't they?"

"Perhaps we've been too harsh, Reginald."

"Reginald?" He reels, dropping character.

"Just roll with it. We're still not even in the right district. Got twenty minutes of driving ahead of us."

"What do I call you then?"

"I don't know. Think of something."

"Hm… how about Barbara?"

"Ooh! I like that one!"

"Alright, then I humbly request to _not_ be Reginald."

"Well, what do _I_ call _you_ then?"

"You're the clever one. Figure it out."

"You're the strategist!"

"Doesn't mean you're not clever."

"You tryin' to compliment your way outta this?"

"You making excuses _not_ to?"

"Fine… how about…" She steals a glance at her dashboard. "Oh, _Miles_!"

**-0-**

The hours wind down quietly in Jaune's apartment. His eyes are drawn to the vanity against the wall, its cracked surface a memoir from the previous tenant when she left it behind. Landlord didn't even bother cleaning up the mess. The empty ring box that smashed the mirror tells a story all on its own.

He wonders what might have happened. What love came into this room and how much left violently through the torn hinges of its front door (another thing he had to fix on his own). Jaune told Yang the story, guessing as best he could. Yang muses that a wounded heart is like a hurricane. Jaune says his was more like a sickness eating him from the inside.

"I hope I can fill the gaps," she says, nestled into his back as he's sitting on the bed. "I hope I can heal what's tearing itself apart." She reaches around his chest and clutches her arms around him with her hands pressed against his chest.

He smiles cause she sounds like she hasn't already healed most of him already. It's only then that he realizes that she filled the gaps in his heart on her first day in this apartment. "You've done plenty," he says, hand over both of hers.

She hums appreciatively and, before he can say anything else, he hears her snore against his back.

He lays her in bed and can't help but kiss her forehead. Then her cheek. Then her lips. His chest is full to bursting, hands clammy and sweaty, and so comfortably and uncomfortably happy that he only realizes the full smile until it's hurting his cheeks. When alone with her he feels a happiness that drowns sunsets in the quiet reverie of a starlit sky, as if he is finally completely sure of something. As certain as night turns to day. Inevitability and the peace that comes with it.

When he kisses her again, he knows she's half-awake cause she grabs him by the ears and pulls him in before depositing him against her shoulder blade. " _Sleep_ …" she mumbles.

He slips out of her grasp. She huffs angrily at the missing warmth.

Jaune sits by the vanity again, watching the cracked glass split his reflection in two on the corner of it. Yang is in the background of the mirror behind him. The splintered glass doesn't reach her.

Months back he cautioned her not to love him, that it was too easy to trick herself. Because emotions are fickle and perhaps something inside of him is as well. Parts of him still lingers on that doubt, a tiny part of him that refuses to die or to see the genuine affection radiating off of her.

"A wounded heart is a like a hurricane…" And he worries how deep a scar that hurricane might leave behind.

He opens a drawer on the vanity, and the empty ring box is still there. "If you were so sure you wanted to be together, then why did you stop at the finish line?" The splintering crack on the vanity calls to him, poisonous doubt ebbing out of it.

The drawer shuts. He stands and only gives the mirror a final glance. " _Whoever you two were_ ," he thinks, " _we're not you._ "

Settling into bed, she snuggles in unconsciously to fill the empty space. The warmth carries him adrift and he dreams of them at sea, diving for lobsters like they're buried treasure.

**-0-**

Yang is alone for a rare moment in the apartment. Jaune's out with his team and Ruby, while Weiss and Blake offer to come over for the afternoon. But here, in the long yawning stretch of a lazy Saturday morning, she is alone with her thoughts, but she knows she will not be for long.

There is a tap on her window and she already knows who it is. With a pop and a slide, the window comes open and a crow flutters in with the rest of the autumn wind.

The bird morphs into a man, and Qrow Branwen's feet settle quietly onto the floorboards – as weightless as one of his feathers. "Heya, kiddo," he says as he dusts himself off. He turns to find her crashing into him. "Woah, hey!" She grumbles when he doesn't hug back. He pats her head instead. "Someone's in a good mood."

She pulls her head out of his chest. "If you have to ask why, then you're a poorer spy than I thought you were." Releasing him, she ambles over to the kitchen. "Thirsty?"

"I, uh, I _shouldn't_ …"

"I meant _water,_ Uncle Qrow."

He looks around the apartment. Worn wallpaper, a skewed window frame, discolored wood glue over the scars in the walls, everything's mostly brown. It's _clean_ but it looks it's seen a lot of bad over the years. Maybe even a body. At least one. Definitely at least one. "You sure the taps are safe?"

"I haven't taken any chances on that," she says, already filling up a pair of glasses, "I've got a filter. Installed it on my first week here."

His eyes are drawn to the coffee table. There's a wireless speaker there that hasn't seen use for a while, judging by the gathering dust on its surface. "Jaune told me he'd blast Seven Rapids at your door so you don't stay in bed all morning." He picks up the speaker as Yang comes around. "Looks like he hasn't needed to in a while."

She rolls her eyes at the wideness of his grin. "Before you say anything, we didn't do it. We just snuggle and I bite him sometimes." She sets down the drinks before plopping onto the sofa next to him. "Okay… maybe every time."

Qrow raises a brow. "Didn't know he had a thing for hickeys."

She snorts. "It's not for pleasure. Consider it my only real trek into sadism."

"Hope you don't torment the kid too much."

"I'd have stopped if he clearly didn't like it."

Qrow winces. "You tellin' me blondie's a masochist?"

"No, sorry… Poor choice of words. And this is gonna sound weird but… sometimes it feels like it's about the only thing really holding us back."

"From what?"

Her blush deepens. "You know _what,_ Uncle Qrow…"

"Oh, I _do._ Just don't see how neck biting is supposed to be some substitute."

"Can we… _not_ get into this?"

Qrow shrugs it off and reaches for the water. He pauses for a bit because, in the low light of a cloudy morning, it almost looks brown. Then he realizes that it isn't water when he picks it up. "Orange juice? You really are your mother's daughter."

"Raven never did this," she says dismissively.

"I meant Summer. I still love my sister, but she wasn't your mom. Not where it counted."

"The legalese would disagree," she says, leaning back against the sofa and tipping her drink down her throat like it's alcoholic. The tang is welcome. It's a sting to the freshly healed cut on her lip. "Law still says she's my mom. Somewhere down the line I'm still her next of kin. Maybe one day she'll pass on and I'll find a tribe at my doorstep cause somehow they're suddenly _my_ responsibility."

"I wouldn't let that happen."

"Could you even stop them? I've met Vernal and she barely even respects _me_. And it wouldn't matter how weak Shay is as just another forerunner on the tribe. He's stubborn like Raven is."

Qrow chortles. He's got secrets of his own because the way he's looking at her makes her feel crazy. "They're only trying to mess with you. You're young and haven't had the chance to beat them up yet. Give it a few years and they won't even try. One year they'll be scowling and laughing behind your back and come the next they'll stiffen like boards and bowing to your highness."

"I find that hard to believe."

"You're still a Branwen, they'll come around. 'Course, it'd be easier just to show you once you graduate, but that's a few years off still." He finally takes a drink of his orange juice before the tang floods his cheeks and he thinks of Summer for a moment. "Oh, wow. This is good stuff."

"Freshly squeezed," Yang says. "Jaune does it manually. Says it gives it a rustic quality that reminds him of home."

"Speaking of home…"

"Don't bother explaining," Yang says quickly. Not frustrated but impatient. She pulls out her scroll and sets it between them on the table. One click and it opens on a message from her father. "Dad already reached out. Yes, I'm coming home. Yes, Jaune is tagging along. And, _yes,_ I know Raven will be there."

It doesn't so much sting as it presents a burgeoning sense of inevitability, like an oncoming train and she's strapped to the tracks.

Qrow scrolls through Tai's message briefly but… "This isn't a message. This is a _thesis._ " He's still scrolling.

"Yeah, you can smell the nerves radiating off the screen…" She bites her lip just like she did when she got the message, and it feels like her teeth have settled into a groove on her healed lip, ready to cut in again. "Dad's overthinking it. I wouldn't _not_ come home. I would've taken zero convincing."

"Even if Rae's there?"

"She doesn't get to factor into it," she says, and it almost feels like a lie. "It maybe gives me something to look out for but I'll be going home for Dad. She doesn't get to stand in the way of anything."

Qrow doesn't tell her that her cold, stoic front reminds him of Raven. Maybe being stubborn just runs in the family but she's got a willingness to see this through that he almost sees in himself.

"What does she want?" she asks, hand clutched onto her other arm.

"She wants to show you that she's changed."

"So she can what? Win me over?"

Qrow shakes his head. "She's not so optimistic. Just wants to prove a point."

"So… she's showing off?"

"Ha! Almost, but no. She's there to prove she's changed and whether or not you forgive her or even remotely want in on that is just a bonus."

"No apology?" Yang doesn't know if she sounds hopeful or dryly sarcastic.

"She'll probably lead with it or think it isn't worth trying."

"She should at least try."

Qrow sits back, amused. " _That_ sounds like something Summer would say."

"She _is_ the one that wound up being my mom after all."

"Yeah, but you and Summer are wired differently."

Yang's eyes are almost afraid. "…What do you mean?"

"I mean that Summer expects apologies because she expects forgiveness. She gives people every chance to bounce back." He leans in her direction, meeting her eyes. " _You_ don't expect to forgive her. You've only taken Summer's lesson but none of the reason behind it. To people like Raven – Hell, to people like _me_ – we don't apologize to people we know won't forgive us. To us, it's an empty gesture."

"But it's the principle of it!" she defends, even if it's weak passed her lips.

"Principles we don't share," Qrow says but doesn't need to. He knows Yang gets it.

She growls. "She doesn't deserve it."

She feels his hand clutch her shoulder. "I know, kiddo. And Summer knew that too, but if Rae walked through the door and asked her to be part of the family again, she would let her." There's something else behind Qrow's eyes as he looks through the window. Something in the steady breath he takes before speaking. She hasn't missed how Qrow talks about Summer as if she were never gone. "To Summer, forgiveness isn't an act of balance. It isn't about righting wrongs or burying hatchets. That's just the neat little bow they come in. No, to Summer, forgiveness is an act of kindness. Love: unconditional. That includes the bad. Especially the bad. Even if it hurt her."

Qrow is still elsewhere, wandering through a memory Yang can almost feel. His hand rises to his chest, clutching the angled cross of his necklace.

His eyes widen when he feels her hand over his on the sofa. The squeeze is reassuring, familiar. "Ruby deserves to know, Uncle Qrow."

He chuckles, hollow and spent. "When I'm done being an absent father, _sure_. But not before."

A knock on the door. Yang gets up to answer it but Qrow gets up and closes his arms around her.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry," he says quietly into her hair.

She clutches his back. Defiant. Unwilling to see his faults. "…You aren't the one who left."

"I did. I was just there more often than Tai. You'll have to forgive him, too… I don't think he's healed quite yet either. Doesn't want to show that a part of him is still… _lost._ "

She doesn't deny it. Can't. It would have spat in the face of her hardships having had to act as Ruby's mother. "…I already forgive him," she says honestly.

"I think he should know that."

He lets her go and she opens the door. Blake and Weiss greet her with a tin box of assorted chocolates.

"Hey, I heard voices," Blake says. "I thought Jaune wasn't home."

"Oh, he isn't. It's just my –" she turns around at the sound of fluttering wings and feathers drifting out of an open window. "–Nevermind. I'll explain later. Come on in. Jaune squeezed some oranges this morning and you should try this stuff fresh…"

**-0-**

"Qrow was at the apartment the other day," Yang tells Jaune in the hallway after class. Oobleck whizzes by them all like a speeding car that no one is somehow afraid of.

"Oh?" Jaune intones as he fixes his hair. "For how long? He could've stayed for dinner."

"He was only there for a drink. Didn't even get to see Weiss and Blake."

"A drink? How much of my whiskey did he take?"

She chuckles. " _None._ We had orange juice."

"Oh… did he like it?"

"Pfft! You're such a dork. _Yes,_ he liked it. More than he thought he would."

He blushes. "So, why did he come over?"

"To try and convince me to come home," she says easily. It almost surprises her how easy it is to say. "He didn't need to, really."

"Are you sure you _want_ to?" He's leaning in now, long neck craning over her like a mother bird's protective shadow.

"Yeah! Why wouldn't I?"

"Yang, please don't tell me what you tell them. Tell me how you _really_ feel."

She blinks because he looks so dead serious that she almost laughs before shoulder bumping him. "Sweet of you to ask but it isn't like that. Maybe I was a little more apprehensive about meeting Raven than I let on but I really have no trouble being in the same room as her."

He's a little embarrassed he jumped the gun on that one. Of course she'd be okay. Yang hasn't needed to go clubbing to forget her problems for months now. And neither has he. His flask has been largely untouched all week.

"I guess we're both doing a little better than I expected."

"There's that smile," she says, beaming. "Now we should probably talk about that fishing trip."

"Way ahead of you. So I was asking Sun about diving gear and–" Jaune feels a tap on his arm.

It's Cardin. "Don't slow down," he says dryly. "You don't wanna be late for Leadership again." He walks ahead of them with Ruby matching his pace. She waves. It's strange to see them get along.

"Right," Jaune says, wincing as they pull out of earshot. "Sorry about this," he says, shrugging sheepishly. "I'll see you at lunch?"

"Sure. I'll save you a seat, but don't take too long. I can only hold off Joan for so long before she starts teasing me again."

"Great," he kisses her cheek, "I'll hurry back."

When he's jogged off, Yang suddenly can't help but feel something unsettle in the air. The hallway seems unnaturally still.

Jaune stops at the sight of Cardin freezing in place and staring at him. Then he realizes that much of the students in the hallway are stood around staring at him too.

Jaune and Yang exchange glances until they realize they haven't made their relationship public.

Someone in the crowd breaks the silence. "Okay, what the _fuck._ "

Jaune is still late for class, but so is Cardin and Ruby. They spend detention gossiping.


	7. Crustacean

**PART 7 – Crustacean**

They've been awake for at least an hour now, staring at the ceiling. It's dark all over, breached by apertures on the steel portal door of their room but the slits of light only cut into a broken ceiling fan and Yang's fingernail next to Jaune's ear.

Penny's voice comes muffled through the thick ceiling. Ruby's high-pitched cheers like distant whispers next to the megaphone voice of their android friend. They're all on a boat house for the sea and it's clear the girls are having a blast trying to steer the thing.

"They're having fun," Jaune says. He means nothing by it. Just an observation. Pointless conversation through the sleepy haze of a rocking ship. Jaune would have gotten sick were he not on a stable bed. He has pills for the motion sickness but they won't last him the entire trip. Sleep is the only way he can ration them.

Yang shifts over his arm and raises her hand, letting the light catch her nail again. It glistens like a solitary star off a cosmic trail. She giggles because the haze has caught onto her too and she's half-awake as it is. "He he, we could have fun too, y'know?"

He seizes, sitting up. "Y-Yang…?"

Yang does the same, huddling into a ball, clutching the comforter like it might shield her. "I-I meant by joining them! I didn't… I mean, I don't _think_ I meant it that way…" Most of her is certain she didn't mean it like that but halfway through speaking, she wanted to take it back. She thinks she's ready, prepared to not freak out at the idea of exposing herself and seeing all of him. Her every uncertainty is truth, as honest as her apprehension to let him touch her.

She can barely see his face but his features soften in the dark, clearer when he gets closer. And for a moment it scares her to think he's taking that initiative. Her chest thumps like earthly tremors, cracking against her skin as it splinters like desert ground. Lips just as dry.

But he doesn't get any closer. He crouches next to her, facing away, but one of his hands reaches out for hers to close the rest of the distance. Her hands twitch when the warmth of his rolls over the back of her palm and hovers over her knuckles.

His hand stops and, instead, takes her fingers between two of his and a thumb. It's a gentle and quiet contact. He doesn't want to scare her. "I know you're having second thoughts," he says slowly, deliberately. As if knowing. Just like Saphron. "But how about we agree to do this when we're both one-hundred percent on it? Like when we have no doubt that this is how we take things going forward."

"Yeah… I think I'd like that." She clutches his hand fully now. Even shuffling closer. A warm breath tickles the hairs on his extended arm. "Look, I want it clear that it isn't _you_ I'm apprehensive about. It's everything that comes after."

She can feel the heat of his blush from his hands alone.

"Uh… Yang, I hope I haven't somehow gotten you thinking I was going to do anything wild."

"No, no," she laughs, "nothing like that." She squeezes his hand and shuffles till her arm is flush against his. "I… I want kids."

"Um!" He tenses but doesn't let go of her as a sign of resolve.

"I don't mean now! Or anytime soon, I swear!" She lets him take a breath and unwind his rigid bones. " _Really jumpstarted his heart, didn't I?_ " she thinks. Another squeeze from her, asking for courage he pours out of his sweaty palm.

"I'm afraid," she says finally, "of what comes after. If I don't try to stopgap how quickly things are going, sooner or later I'll have a kid of my own and I'll stare them in the face and… I'm worried that I'll be afraid. That, somehow, Mom running away would make sense."

He stares at her, eyes wide. "You called her _mom_."

An uncomfortable shiver runs down her neck and scrapes against her ribs. She shudders as she buries her head between her curled-up knees. "It's not about her. At least, I don't think so. I've caught myself calling her mom in my head when I think about it. Like I'm hoping I can still call _myself_ a mother."

"That's a lot of thinking ahead, Yang. Who knows how long it'll even be till then."

She shrugs with a laugh that doesn't reach her eyes. "I've always been wired that way. I got a full life to live but I had to spend a lot of time prepping Ruby's future. If I don't prepare for the inevitable, I'll waste time trying to figure it out when it actually arrives."

"It doesn't sound like you're waiting to know if you'll be ready. Only that you worry if you'll ever be ready at all."

She nods, a touch of shame welling in her chest. "Is that bad?"

"I think it's human."

"That just tells me I could screw up like everyone else…"

"I like to think it means we're afraid of the same things."

Yang pulls her head out of her knees and blinks at him. Their hands are sweating and her nerves are mirrored on him too. She can see it on his face but it almost doesn't make sense. "Why?" she asks. "You'll make a great dad, Jaune. Hell, you'd make a great mom too!" She almost doesn't notice the little smile on her cheeks.

"Could say the same to you," he says, smiling again but there's a quiver in his hands. It's uncomfortably weak. "But it doesn't really matter that we think the world of each other. We'll probably mess up anyway. I may not share your fear of becoming like your mom but I'm every bit as afraid of not turning up like mine. My parents are storied huntsmen who raised eight proper kids. My grandparents before them were hard won veterans who were their children's heroes. That's a lot of legacy to live up to. And…" He makes a series of faces. All of them uncertain.

Her hand slides up his arm and the other knits between his fingers. Their heads lean onto each other before he speaks.

"Sometimes it feels like everything I'll ever do will be dwarfed by them. Short of saving the world and raising a dozen huntsmen–" Yang resists visibly wincing at the thought of raising twelve kids "–I'll never live up to them. And even if I do? I'm still not sure how to stop my kids from sharing the same fears…" He laughs. Not bitterly. There's a genuine hearty sound puffing out of his chest. "I think I know why Dad wanted me to be a doctor."

"Hm… Sounds like he was afraid of the same thing we are," she muses.

"I think so, too."

The sliver of light through the door passes them and, for a moment, the light is gone. The warmth and sweat of their hands are the only tangible things in the dark. And they cling to each other, summoning courage as fears drip away like melting ice.

"Jaune?" she asks.

"Yeah?"

"We should talk to your parents. I think there's a lot of easy-to-reach wisdom we aren't taking advantage of here." He's silent for a long second and Yang nearly calls him out until she notices the sheen of his scroll. "What are you doing?"

His Cheshire grin is mortifying under the pale glow. "Calling my folks."

"No! Stop!" she screeches, scrambling on top of him like a wild monkey. "I'm not ready! My hair's a mess!"

He pulls his hand away. "C'mon! They'll love you!"

"Can it, Arc! Sweet talking won't stop me!"

They wrestle for a while and Yang is so focused on getting his scroll that she forgets what she taught Jaune. They've wrestled in the past for training and something he's very broadly taken from those lessons has been going on the offensive. Tucking away his scroll, he manages to slink around her and grapple her arms.

"What? Hey!"

Trapping the length of her arms above her with his arm, he reaches around her with the other to grab his scroll. He pulls it up. It goes to call and the preview camera puts them both in view (strangely, like two floating heads from the dark).

With enough struggling, Yang knows she can break out even at a disadvantageous position, but the call answers quickly and she freezes up. Her awkward smile is automatic. Her panicked heart is full-auto.

"Hey, Mom, Dad! This is Yang, my girlfrie–" His mouth hangs open when their eyes meet in what can only be described as abject terror.

They hadn't exactly agreed on a label.

There's click from the scroll. "…And _saved_!" Jaune's mom sings. "Aren't you two _cute_."

**-0-**

They don't get a lot of answers. Jaune's parents, Apolian and Helia (she insists on Aunt Hess), tell them that this is the kind of discussion you have over dinner. Yang is promptly invited to see them over the Summer.

They do end up sharing stories, and by the end of it Yang feels confident that she's left a good first impression. Yet, by the time they walk into the morning light and find an empty spot together at the front deck, their nerves worm their way back in but for different reasons this time.

"So… _labels_. Yay," Yang cheers weakly against the railing.

"Yeah," Jaune drawls. "Fifteen percent off. This side up. Expires yesterday. Labels!" he cheers sarcastically, awkwardly. "Totally love 'em."

It's very easily something they can agree to discuss another time but it doesn't feel right doing so. Like it's not so big a deal that they can't hold off but not small enough to ignore for too long. Besides, people are going to ask questions (not that they haven't already) and just agreeing on something would work for a few more miles.

"Y'know, it's funny," Yang says, "I was fully prepared to just be boyfriend and girlfriend when this all started. Now that I've got clarity, I'm starting to wonder if we're even pacing ourselves right as _friends_."

Jaune hums agreeably. "But maybe we've worried so much about the pace that we've forgotten if it even matters… I mean, so what if things are going too fast? What should matter is if we want it or not."

"Do you want it?" she asks.

He shrugs. "I guess I don't mind telling everyone we're dating. And exclusive. But what are we if not _that_ by definition? What's the difference with that and being an item?"

She sighs, pivoting around to lean her back against the railing instead. "What if the label's pointless to begin with? It just sums up what we are for other people. Like you said, it should only really matter to _us._ "

"Maybe that's just it. The label isn't important to _us_ and so it's only for _them_. If all they're asking is to sum up what we are, then we should just pick a label that answers enough questions and any nuance we need we can keep to ourselves."

"Yeah, we don't have change to fit it, even. We'll just be the way we are."

But the uncomfortable question of what they even are lingers between them. Not a label, per se. Perhaps a name truly is pointless, but what does it mean to be what they are?

When their hands meet in the middle, there's an air of comfort, a touch of romance. A quiet laugh and a knowing smile. They balk at the smell of salty sea air, laugh at the antics of an excitable Penny, gossip at some friends huddled a little too close. It's all friendly, familiar. Uncomplicated.

They decide that quantifying it is either too hard or actually impossible. And a quiet ambivalence washes over them – stinging and uncertain – and figuring it out will take a lot of testing.

**-0-**

It was supposed to be a little solitary date but Sun knows a guy with a boat house and Pyrrha has a sponsorship with an outdoor grill you can take to the beach (the sponsor feels that a photoshoot on the deck of a ship is an inspired take). The fact that there's a small, unfamiliar crew onboard is a little concerning but they're largely invisible and stay out of the way. Though Sun and Pyrrha have made it a game to hide away from them.

Yang has started wearing a red wig to throw them off and, stood next to Jaune who is a muscular blonde, from behind he can pull off looking like Sun at a glance. Most of the crew is understanding and they have a few good laughs.

Yang muses that she might look good as a redhead and posits to Jaune that she might dye her hair down the line.

"And here I thought those locks were sacred."

"Yeah, I don't think they can stop being immaculate," she says as she twirls in front of a mirror, trying to get a good look of it down her back. "Red's sufficiently bright. Maybe…"

"Well, bright colors _will_ match your eyes," Jaune says sat across from her in a half-zipped wetsuit, "but I don't see you having many options with hair that long. You gotta get a hairdresser to cover all that thickness. You're gonna mess up trying to do it yourself."

Yang chews the thought like she does her lip. "I guess I could just cut it."

Jaune blinks at her. "I'm not the most religious man but even _that_ sounds blasphemous."

"Heh. I might've thought the same thing last year."

"What changed?"

She bundles her hair in her hands, draping it over her shoulder. "I inherited my hair from my mom, but it's something I took and made my own. I took pride in that, but nowadays that just feels… _petty_. I mean, I still take pride in taking care of it, but I've started to come around to the idea that I could just like however I look as long as that choice is my own. Even if I end up looking ridiculous for a semester."

He comes up behind her, eying himself in the mirror. "Okay, but only if you let me do the same."

"Dye your hair?"

"Yeah, to match yours. Maybe I'll even grow mine out. Always wanted to try a wolf-tail." He turns his head and bunches up a few of his locks. It's not enough for a full tail since much of the length is lost in his fist, but Yang can kind of see it working.

But _red_?

"I can't put you through that."

"But you won't be," he says matter-of-factly, "I'll be putting _myself_ through that. So, if I choose to stand behind you by experimenting with my hair the same way, that'll be _my_ choice."

She sighs and backs up into his chest. "Why do you keep cheating? You know I can't argue with that kind of logic. And you'll just end up looking ridiculous by the end."

"At least I'll look like the bigger fool."

"Jaune…"

"I'm used to it," he maintains evenly, sternly. "I'm glad people don't look down on me anymore but being with me means you have to live with the fact that I'm still every bit that little spaz who threw up on your boots. Which I'm glad you forgave me for, by the way. Real quick on that too."

"Heh, well, my temper's never been about my style. An unfortunate dork just gets pity, and even a mild jerk might just get a glare. It's mostly about my pride. I worked hard on my hair back in freshmen year and… I hated losing. I mean, god _damn_ does Yatsu hit hard. I guarantee that I'll start seeing red again if I get a repeat of last year's Vytal."

"You're competing again this year?"

She gives him gigawatt grin. "JNPR didn't need to compete but you all did anyway. If Jaune Arc can stand on international television despite obvious odds and harbor an unnecessary need to feel like he's somehow a burden, what's Yang Xiao Long to do but follow his example and beat her own demons to death?"

His cheeks are a touch red and she gives him the small mercy of not pointing it out. "I guess I can't argue with that either," he says.

Yang pushes off him and raises one hand while pressing the other against her chest before she announces before him, "I swear mercy upon my hair, that you might see fit to show mercy on yours."

"Even if things go horribly wrong and I decide that the only way to one-up you is to grow a mullet?"

She snorts. "I will shave you bald in your sleep _,_ and don't think for a _second_ that I won't do that."

They're laughing and he rolls his eyes but he's certain she'll make good on if it comes to that. "C'mon, we've spent enough time not getting ready. They're probably already in the water."

She helps him with his zipper. "Blake's probably already caught one," she says. There's an excited tingle that runs through her spine. "Now I've got an itch. Wanna see if we can catch more than she can?"

"Both of us against _her_?"

"She used to dive for clams with her dad. No gear either. Two against one is only fair."

They still lose to her, and they're not even in second place. Sun has been diving for seafood since he was kid.

They manage over two dozen lobsters and a handful of crabs, and unanimously agree _not_ to boil the poor things alive. Still, they mess up a few times cause no one actually knows how to cook lobster even with Penny's encyclopedic knowledge but they manage a lovely dinner eventually with a few failed attempts.

Neptune and Weiss disappear at some point only to be stumbled upon below deck. They'd been drinking. Everyone respects their privacy and don't ask why.

**-0-**

Nora interjects on a Tuesday team meeting that – now that it's public that Jaune and Yang are basically a couple – people both see it and _don't_ see it.

Jaune is confused for long enough to just outright ask what she's talking about.

Sometimes people will catch them getting a little close in the halls (they're starting to notice the stares), but they're not always together and you wouldn't have noticed that something was up if you didn't already know. They sit next to each other all the time but are frequently talking to the rest of their teams (there was rumor that Jaune was secretly dating Ruby after they laughed out loud during class a few times). Witnesses spot them boarding bullheads to Vale around the weekends but are as frequently found shopping for groceries, ammo, inspecting ingots, and once even at a car dealership (and they're surprised how most of the things they do together could only be classified as _dates_ if you squint hard enough and pretend they're doing anything else).

They're never caught holding hands. The one kiss was even on the cheek and some people still believe they were seeing things altogether. It almost feels like fiction or outlandish gossip. Not because it's _them_ , but because no one saw it coming and people are still refusing to trust their eyes.

Yang thinks it's hilarious. Jaune thinks they need to clarify things before they get awkward. Yang was already propositioned after she lied about there being nothing between them. Lies are only going to complicate things.

So, in that moment they decide, "We're a couple."

Sure. _Fine_. Give them a label when they ask but they aren't changing anything else. They'd already agreed on it anyway. Still, the societal pressure to look the part just didn't vibe with them and they hope the label is the last thing they ever give into outside of themselves.

**-0-**

They find out two things on the last week before the semestral break, the one they'll mostly spend in Patch with Yang's parents.

 _One_ , that lobster needs to be preserved damp and freezing with _salt water._ Fresh water off the tap ruins their last reserve crustacean. Shame. Guess they'll have to plan another boat trip.

And _two_ , that – at least according to the crusty boatman – lobsters don't stop growing. They get bigger and bigger until they've outgrown their own shells. So, they shed it and grow a new one. Then, eventually, they outgrow that shell, too, and start the process over and over again until we find them, crack them open, and feast on their _delicious_ insides…

The boatman forgets his own metaphor in the reverie of polishing off the last of his meal, plucking his lips over the last delicate morsels.

He tells them all, then, that the price of growth is to constantly find that what was once familiar will inevitably feel alien. That everything about you and around you will change, and adaptation is not only what makes it _survivable_ , but it also keeps you _sane_.

When they think he's done, he coughs, wheezes, then speaks again.

 _You should always look out for the in-between_ , he says with a serious look in his eye. Thing is, after shedding their shell, lobsters have to spend their meantime being vulnerable. _Squishy, ugly little things_ , he emphasizes with gusto.

Transitions in your life will be like that, often terrifying and tumultuous, and the scary part is that your worries doesn't stop there. You have to be careful about who you become when you come out the other end. That it's not only hard to make the transition, that your choices in that change will determine who you are moving forward.

A lobster will come out wrong if something unexpected happens in the middle of molting. Might grow another claw or bulge out somewhere uncomfortably. But the boatman, rather optimistically, says a lobster has the option to cut off an offending part of them and regrow it. It'll take a while though. Years even, but correcting your character is never as easily solved with an apology or an act of will.

Because you'll never undo your mistakes. You can only make things right. And sometimes you can only do that little by little.

For a moment, Yang thinks of Raven.

**-0-**

It's when they're out by the pier to try an egg sandwich that Yang is thinking about lobsters and metaphors. "So, what happens after the apartment?" she asks. "After Beacon?"

"I don't know," he shrugs. "I haven't thought that far ahead." Except he has, but it's all substitutions. He used to think of a future with Terra, but now Yang has replaced all those naïve, boyish dreams with a series of blonde heads bouncing on a couch. Still, these are fragmentary thoughts, and he doesn't think Yang would like it if he tried for the civilian life. No, right now – and for the past week – he's been trying to see where that future is now with Yang instead. "We should pair off, by the way."

"Uh, haven't we already?"

"I mean when we go hunting. I know you're only supposed to pair off with your own team but I don't see JNPR and RWBY splitting up… _ever_. I think we should get a head start."

"Okay, future proofing. Sounds like your next report for Leadership." It is, and Yang helps him figure out his bullet points while they chew thoughtfully on their egg sandwiches (it's really eighty-percent meat and cheese but it's got an egg inside and on top so it gets the name).

They talk about the car they're looking for. Jaune's racetrack savvy sister, Sable, it still swearing up and down about the Highway Aries being an ideal match. Yang still insists on a bike.

When they're packing up and driving home, Yang talks about her "cousin" Vernal and her estranged bedmate Shay. Jaune adds that he has cousins he doesn't remember because seven sisters are enough, he doesn't need to add another _eight_. (Yang reels at the idea of so many blondes at a single family gathering and those are just the grandkids).

When they're home they talk about another trip out to sea and inevitably segway back into lobsters.

Sitting on the couch, she's thinking about her future. Jaune plops next to her and laughs about something Ruby sends him on his scroll.

Yang's ignoring her messages from Nora – she's staring at her scroll on the coffee table and it buzzes but she can't register what's happening – and suddenly she blurts, "Hey, I know this is a ways off and I probably shouldn't be something you talk about it at _eighteen_ in the middle of academy training but… if we get a girl, can we name her Summer?" There's no embarrassment blooming off her cheeks. Her face is completely neutral, and her eyes are searching for a response in his wide, vacant stare.

His typing hasn't stopped, only slowed. "…"

"Jaune?"

He sighs, and it's long and beaten like he's preparing himself for self-destruction. "Only if we agree to name our son…" he swallows uncomfortably. "…uh, Qrow?"

She's aghast, mouth opening and closing. "Did… did you lose a bet or something?"

He kisses her – his way of saying _yes_ – but it's not cute this time. It's sad and piteous and his eyes scream an apology his lungs are strangling him not to say for fear of combusting in what is already volcanic embarrassment.

"Win the bet," she says sternly.

"What? But I already lost!"

"Then double or nothing! Short of him kicking the ever living fuck out of the bucket, I am _not_ naming my son after my uncle." After his furious nodding, she summons a tiny strength in her lungs to speak, but not enough to look him in the eye. "So, you, uh, didn't answer my question."

The clatter of his flask on the coffee table almost scares her, but she can see that he isn't drinking at the thought of Terra. This time it's just about Qrow. It makes her feel less afraid. When he answers, there is no burden in his tone caused he'd downed his nerves in quarter-parts whiskey. "I'll agree to Summer if you let me name our next daughter Agrippa."

"Oh? Why?"

"Was set on it when I was kid. This was before Pyrrha, before Terra, even. I just remember crying at home during a storm. My bedroom door was stuck cause of a leak – y'know, cause water inflates wood – and no one could hear me call out to them under all the rain drumming the roof. I was soaking wet cause the leak got onto my sheets. Stupid thing was, I wasn't even afraid of getting sick or if my small boy body would get hypothermia. I just had a sleepover at a friend's place the morning after and I didn't want to miss it. Then, out of nowhere and probably from a fevered haze, I see a guardian angel or – as my sisters called it – an imaginary friend."

He pauses to look at her, to check if she thinks he's crazy. She doesn't. Yang doesn't judge. She listens.

"It was a girl just a head taller than mine," he continues. "The dark made her hair look brown or a dull red, so I can't recall that for sure but I remember her eyes. They were blue, like mine, only brighter. She said her name was _Gri_ , short for Agrippa. She saw that I was cold and she knelt to my level and hugged me. Her body felt warm, but too warm like the way your hands might after holding freshly brewed coffee. I didn't notice I was dry until I was laid in an equally dry bed and already falling asleep."

She doesn't ask if he thought it a dream. "You weren't afraid?" she asks instead.

He shakes his head. "I just assumed she was someone from the neighborhood I neglected to meet. My hometown, Clove, is a community of retired huntsmen surrounded by their farmlands, and everyone outside of it knew not to mess with huntsman families. If anything, we kept giving passersby the spooks. Cause of that, I was taught to be friendly, not wary of strangers."

"Hm," she sounds thoughtfully. "That explains a few things, actually."

"Really? Like what?"

"Well, just _one thing_. Ruby told me how you two met. You told her that _strangers are just friends you haven't met yet._ Thought you might've even been a little sketchy until I saw you myself. Seemed like the kind of guy who'd meet her in the middle. Vomit and all."

"Heh, I'm glad we hit it off. Ruby's a good friend."

"She makes a better sister," she says, winking.

"I suppose I'll find that out eventually, huh?" He gives her a suggestive grin.

"Eh?"

His grin drops. "Y'know, cause she'll be my sister-in-law if we…" He rolls his hands.

"Uh… Oh. _Oh!_ You were flirting! Damn it, I missed my chance!'

He laughs because she seems genuinely upset. She decides that pouting is for suckers and proceeds to bite his neck. This time he bites back.

**-0-**

They wake up with the hickeys still on their necks and they opt to leave it there for all to see. The reactions from their peers at Beacon are interesting, and they take it as sufficient proof enough for everyone that they're an item. No one bothers asking about them after that.

When the week comes to an end, Pyrrha promises that they can pay her back for covering for the car's down payment and that – by the time they get back from Patch – that it'll be in the apartment's designated parking spot. Only slightly used cause, _of course_ , she's going to cruise in it with Sun when he flies back to the city tomorrow.

They're surprised when Jaune and not _Yang_ is the one that makes them vow to clean the stains. Yang is very proud of him.

On the pier, they hug their friends goodbye and Ruby promises to catch up once she's done meeting someone important from Mistral as per the headmaster's instruction. She says she can't tell them why she's nervous. They don't pry and tell her they'll listen when she's ready.

Jaune, also, promises not to look at her baby pictures ( _until she's there_ , he doesn't say).

Once they're in transit on the ferry, he tries to straighten out a crease in Yang's leather jacket. The shard of fire dust in a cup of water is his attempt to steam it straight. He spends the time talking about his mom's home remedies and his dad's jury rigging. She answers with talk of Summer's garden that her dad and uncle tend to. He scoffs at the idea of Qrow gardening but admits that it makes sense.

With Jaune busying himself, Yang wonders if things will stay this way. If all they have to worry about is down payments, creases, spoiled lobsters, and baby names. That all the big problems, like her mother's abandonment and his actual, _biological_ son, might rear themselves instead and come back to haunt them in devastating ways. But just before any doubt sinks in, he holds her hand from his perch on the floor. He kisses her knee and eyes her from over her lap.

"Whatever it is," he says, squinting. Thinking of what else to add but settles with, "It doesn't matter whatever it is…"

She is prepared to eat up anything he offers. That he'll be there for her, that they'll work it out somehow, that he'll banish any ill thought or doubt, but he says none of those things. Instead, he leans up and kisses her – tender and brief – on the lips.

She blinks. "What are you saying _yes_ to this time?" She's so bewildered that she doesn't even know why she asks such a thing.

"You," he answers anyway. "All of you. I can't fix everything and I can't right every wrong, but I'll take you as you are, or whatever you'll become. Even if you're in pieces. Even if you stop loving me. I don't have be your boyfriend to be with you every step of the way."

It's clear, then, that Jaune's been dealing with doubts of his own. Yang swallows as things bubble to the surface before she blinks a few times and…

"I love you," she says, and she realizes that it's the first time she has said it.

**-0-**

Down the line, she remembers this moment most vividly of her trip to Patch that one Autumn afternoon. The uncomfortable smell of sea water and steam off a heated cup, the rock of the ferry that forces Jaune to swallow a pill and drops a dozen more just to stop from hurling, and the way her shorts nearly catch fire from the dust shard spilling onto her lap.

Cause then he's stable and she's got a change of clothes (the small fire charred the color in an uncomfortable spot), and they try for the overpriced food court a floor above to mask the smell of all the water in almost lousy, reheated pizza.

The boatman told them that change is tumultuous, and that screwing up in the middle of growing their new shell is almost inevitable. Maybe they won't fit quite so well in their new shell, and maybe they'll take a few cuts and scrapes before they settle comfortably in their own skin, and maybe an old wound might not quite go away and leave them vulnerable there forever…

…but even if so, they decide – after a toast with pizza that tastes like the box it came in – that they'll always have these beautiful little imperfections, and that they can be ugly, squishy lobsters together.


End file.
